


Other Worlds

by OrdinaryMortal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 1980's Style Terrorism, @HelenaHandcart_, Adorable Harry and Draco, Alternate Universe - Babies, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion with other Fandoms, Anal Sex, Autonomous House Elves, Azkaban Breakout, Blow Jobs, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Charles Xavier's School For Gifted Children, Crossing the Streams, Death Eaters, Department of Mysteries, Don't Worry., Evil Dumbledore, F/F, F/M, Gen, Good Severus Snape, House Elf Babies (Though Thankfully No Sex scenes), House Elves As Family Retainers, I Am Having So Much Fun, I May Not Have Got To Your Verse Yet, I like replying to comments, International Wizarding Politics, LongFic - Many Many Chapters Planned, M/M, Minor Canon Deaths, Mpreg, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Not Epilogue Compliant, Oh yes, Orphans, Pack Bonding, Pack Family, Pack Politics, Patience - All Will Be Revealed, Please Tweet Link If You Like It, Psychic Abilities, SHIELD, Semi-Public Sex, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Sirius Black Never Went to Azkaban, Some Muggles Know, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Soul Bond, The Author Regrets Nothing, There Will Be Drarry, There Will Be Science, There will be sex, Were Abilities, Werewolves, Wizarding Politics, Wizarding Refugees, Wizarding World, oh gods - Freeform, underground railroad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-02-21 10:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 49
Words: 117,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2465309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrdinaryMortal/pseuds/OrdinaryMortal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would have happened if Severus had found the courage to apologise?<br/>What would have happened if Lily had found the courage to welcome him back?<br/>What would have happened if they'd just all had that little space to grow up?</p><p>Some things will stay the same. But some things will change. And that divergence could mean the difference between life and death, love and bitterness.</p><p>That divergence could bring worlds together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ties That Bind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LSG Tweasels](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=LSG+Tweasels), [twinkletwinklelittlebat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkletwinklelittlebat/gifts).



Lucius Malfoy gestured to Severus Snape to sit, closing the door to the library softly and shutting out the genteel noises of a pure blood christening party.

'My dear Severus, thank you so much for standing on behalf of Draco. Narcissa and I are so pleased at your closer ties to our little family.'

Severus smiled as he sipped at the truly excellent firewhisky. 'I am honoured that you chose me as Draco's Godfather, Lucius, and you have my word that I will always strive for his benefit'.

'Well, that should be vague enough to keep my word', he thought to himself, carefully keeping his thoughts occluded. Lucius was not the Legilmens he thought himself, but it paid to be careful. There was undoubtedly fondness for him in Lucius' private thoughts - his appointment as Draco's godfather proved that - but he could never forget that Malfoys always, always had an agenda. Lucius had been pressing Lord Voldemort's agenda as well as his own for the last three years, and Severus thought he had done well to avoid being pinned down so long, citing his near completed Potions studies as his reason for keeping to the side. 

It was no secret in this house that Lord Voldemort wanted Severus to join his endeavour. While his father was a filthy muggle even in Severus' eyes, his mother's family were honoured by those who respected the Dark Arts, and their influence spread wide. His potions expertise had already brought him renown as the youngest student ever to be this close to his Potions Mastery; his Mastery study reworking Belby's Wolfsbane Potion had had some unusually secretive yet generous sponsors, which in addition to Lucius' financial assistance, had done much to ensure he could study at all.

The fact that his father had hated the magical world, as well as his unwanted child, and had done everything he could to keep his wife and son in magical disdain, had meant a visible distance between them and her family. Severus had grown up in grinding poverty, resented by his House at school and tormented by the Gryffindors, in particular after the spectacular row with Lily. Lucius and Narcissa had swept into the void like glittering Angels, smoothing the path before him in so many ways. He didn't know, looking back, how much of that had been done at Voldemort's direction, but for a lost and off balance school kid it had made a big difference. 

Both had left school before he swallowed his pride and wrote to Lily, apologising. It had taken a lot of work between them both for their friendship to heal, and a lot of work on Lily's part with the self-styled Marauders, before a truce was called. Almost against his will James Potter had seen parallels between Severus' life and Sirius'. His protective streak had kicked in, and Severus found himself welcome at the little cottage in Godric's Hollow just as much as he was at Lucius' Wiltshire mansion. 

The two social circles were kept wide apart, naturally. Returning from Italy for the summer vacation to England and the little house in Cokeford where he had grown up, Severus had been struck by the similarities between the two. Both had their honoured patriarch - Lord Voldemort, of course, for the Malfoys and their peers; Dumbledore for the Potters. Severus had too long watched Dumbledore's machinations, playing Slytherin against Gryffindor all his school years, to be comfortable around the old bat, and he suspected that Voldemort's tactics in attracting followers were not so different. The Dark Lord was evidently deeply partial to Lucius, although Severus sometimes felt that Narcissa was a little cool; and He was clearly fond of the LeStrange trio, but there was ... something off about just how attached they were to him. And, of course, both were heavily involved in the guerrilla warfare that was causing such turmoil in Wizarding Britain.

He wasn't stupid. It was unlikely that the Death Eater terrorist actions were, as Lucius and Nott claimed, the activities of independent groups taking intellectual theorisation to physical extremes, but he couldn't imagine the cultured Lucius sinking to violence. There was enough doubt to delay his making a decision before he had to, but Severus was increasingly certain that he would turn down Lucius' urgings to join the 'Inner Circle', as he called those closest to the mysterious Lord Voldemort, once his Mastery was completed. 

He took another sip of the firewhisky, waiting for Lucius' rather rambling account of his latest political dealings to be done and for him to get to the point of their seclusion from the party, for there was always a point; some small favour, perhaps a series of potions or an introduction desired. Perhaps Lucius wanted to buck the Malfoy tradition and beget a 'spare' to accompany the Heir squalling in the other room, although given the potions both had required this time around, probably not.

Through the latest bills working through the Ministry via the latest Abraxan colt born in the stables (and named Dragon in honour of his son), Lucius delicately directed the conversation round to Severus' post Mastery intentions.

'How long do you have, do you think, before your studies in Florence are completed? I know the Dark Lord is most keen to assist a new Potions Master to flourish in this fair island. We have so few, after all. Such a shame.'

Severus nodded. Unsure quite where Lucius was going, he toyed with a couple of potential replies, before deciding: 'There is a lamentable lack of Potions expertise and research in this country. Without your support...' Lucius made a small motion of dismissal. 'You can't avoid my thanks, Lucius. Without that assistance, I would not be in this position, and with no direct Ministry assistance with apprenticeship support, I must wonder how many wizards we lose to other, more foresighted countries.' That should have been a big enough hook to reel in the purpose of this meeting, Severus thought, reassured by the minute relaxation Lucius displayed.

'Of course. The Dark Lord is of your mind in this, and was speaking of this last time we met.' He leaned forward. 'Have you considered sharing your knowledge with others, Severus? I can't help but think that an expert boosting visibility and enthusiasm for Potions, particularly amongst the young, would invigorate the craft within, perchance, five years, and, of course, raise your profile as pre-eminent in the field.'

Only his superb occlumency skills prevented Severus's mental shudder being physically visible. Gods, returning to Hogwarts in any capacity? Not to be endured at any cost, as Lucius must be aware. So what was this about?

'The craft does need more apprentices', he carefully agreed. 'Although I have not had the luxury of time to consider my next steps, of course.'

Lucius sat back, regally, in his chair. 'Yes, yes, of course', he mused. 'Still, I have been contacted regarding your future plans by Professor Slughorn. He grows weary of teaching at his age, and has private plans to retire at the end of this coming school year. As yet, of course, he has not disclosed this to the Board; hoping, he says, to time his withdrawal from Hogwarts with your graduation from the Academy. With his Emeritus support, as well as that of myself and our allies both on and off the Board, you could very well find yourself as not only Hogwarts' Potion Master, but also it's youngest ever Head of Slytherin House. Severus, dear friend, think of the opportunities such roles would afford all of us in this community. The connections, the influence, the opportunity to mould young minds correctly. My Lord was most enthusiastic that I recommend this opportunity with all at my disposal to you, and wanted me to let you know he would be most happy to exert his influence on your behalf. Combined with all our hopes for next summer, this truly is the start of a golden time, Severus, a golden age.'

And there it was. The message was clear. Lord Voldemort wanted Severus, both in his Inner Circle and at Hogwarts, and would be severely displeased if he refused either. Idly Severus wondered at the pressure that must have been 'exerted' on Slughorn, who, at a mere 60 years old, was nowhere near retirement age. If he had ever entertained any notion at returning to his own personal hell, it would have been a perfect inducement and threat combined. As it was, he had less than a year, on this timetable, to find a way out of the trap. There was no way he could slow down his research any more than he had; given his aptitude for Potions, his Master was fully aware he could submit his findings tomorrow and obtain Distinction, and clearly assumed Severus had a paramour in Florence and wished to stretch his apprenticeship over the traditional four years. 

'Lucius, I fear we have been away from my Godson too long, but I must say this idea is extremely interesting, and has opened up a new potential for the next few years. I am, as ever, deeply grateful.'

Both men stood, and Lucius gracefully extended his hand for Severus to precede him.  
'I am delighted to hear this, Severus. Do let me know as soon as you can where your decision lies, and I will be pleased to start the necessary wheels in motion. Shall we return?'

The delicate threat delivered and understood, Severus turned to leave the library, plans to visit Godric's Hollow already forming as the swell of conversation rose with the opening door.


	2. The Best Laid Plans

'Ok', said Sirius, clearing his throat. 'Sounds like you're right in the shit, then. Neck deep, in fact. Swimming in the kaka.'

'For fucks sake, Siri, I think we all got that from Sev, thanks', sighed Lily, her head resting on her arms. James looked up at his best friend. 'Pads, stop being a wind up merchant, ok? Lils is knackered from Harry, Sev's stressed to hell and back, and you are pumping out adrenaline to the point that Moony is twitching.'

Remus stood up and dumped his coffee into the sink, before muttering the spell for his favourite camomile tisane. 'S'ok, I shouldn't be caffeinated this close to moonrise anyway, you just reminded me.'

'Fine, spoil my fun', grumbled Sirius, but the raised eyebrow James shot him calmed him down. Severus hadn't really noticed anyway, but sat staring at his firewhisky as though he could lose himself in the glowing gold liquid. 

'Ok. Sev has, at best, a couple of months to spare before coming back to the Malfoys with a decision. Any ideas?' As usual, Lily commandeered the group back to the point.

Remus cleared his throat. 'So, this cousin of yours, the Mysteries guy; he thinks you should do it?' 

Severus nodded. 

'And you are positive, 100% definite, that he's not involved with Voldie's gang already.'

'Merlin, no. Absolutely not. He wants me to report back to him, in point of fact. They haven't been able to get anyone in, although they think Rookwood is reporting Mysteries business to Voldemort.'

'Would not like to be him when they decide to bring him in', muttered Sirius. Severus grimaced, nodding. 

'Well you know how I feel', Lily said, firmly. 'You'll hate every minute of teaching and you know it, and even if that wasn't a perfectly sane reason for not doing it, there's the whole Death Eater thing. The whole 'fringe group' posturing in the Prophet is so much utter bollocks; we've been tailing some of these for months, and till I went on leave it was obvious to everyone but that plonker Fudge that the LeStrange brothers, Avery and their slimy friends down Knockturn are controlling most of the gang activity, we just haven't got them red handed yet.' 

'Fudge is refusing to sign off on half the warrants because he's scared shitless he'll fuck up his political ambitions, so we can't even get into dear Bella's house. The higher ups in this group are wealthy and tighter than a duck's arse. I say we need Severus in there. Sorry, mate, but, well, they are approaching you for this. They obviously think you check out ok', and almost idly James reached out and cuffed Sirius at his indistinct mutter, 'and we can't fake that kind of credentials. Even Mysteries can't.'

'We'll come and visit you at Hogwarts every Hogsmeade weekend', grinned Sirius. Severus levelled a glare at him. 'Hound of Hell, you are not coming ANYWHERE near that school if I decide to do this. Magical tattoos binding me to a fascist lunatic are one thing, you bouncing around near my potions are something else completely.'

'That does raise a good point', Remus mildly interjected. 'Do we know what the tattoo does?'

'Well everyone calling themselves a Death Eater has one.' Lily replied'. 'They burn, apparently, when they are called to action, but we're getting the low level grunts, mostly, and even under Veritaserum they don't know the identity of the one who calls them, as they all wear masks at their meetings. Which they're side-alonged to, in circles, so they can't even give us that. Oh, and we've had a report of what sounds like Cruciatus spasms from one we liberated from Muggle jail, but he was dead by the time the Healers got to him.'

'Lucius has one under a very good glamour, but then he and Narcissa always were good at charms', Severus mused. 'I haven't seen one on Narcissa.' 

'You won't either,' Sirius stated. 'It's the Black way. Keep at least a couple of family members a few steps back from true involvement in a cause so they can pull the others out if it goes tits up. The Malfoy money will protect Lucius to a certain extent anyway, but she'll remain dutiful but stain free.'

'Have Mysteries worked out the spell work on it at all?' Remus asked. 

James shook his head. 'It fades over six hours on corpses, apparently, so there are limits. The first one had a Cruciatus linkage, so when they tried to amend the image it practically shocked the poor bugger back to life, which was a neat trick given that he didn't have a head. So they can't score it through to nullify it. 

They want to develop a revealing potion to show the curse layers, which will take time and living subjects, which of course violates every protocol going, and while the goblins don't worry so much about the ethics of medical experiments they care very much about the ethics of experimenting on customers, so Mysteries are negotiating that at the moment.'

'Alright then. Pros please', said Lily, rapping on the table.

'Puts Sev right inside the Inner Circle. He can use the 'Pure Soul for Potions' rationale for avoiding Death Eater activity, give us and The Order information about what the ever loving fuck they're planning', said Sirius.

'His cousin gives him a certain amount of cover that I don't think even Dumbledore can manage. Letters of authentication in Mysteries, that kind of thing' chipped in James.

'Cons? asked Remus

Yes, for one, it's pretty fucking dangerous for a civilian, which is what you are, Sev. Two, magical fucking tattoo which has the Cruciatus curse woven in, for Morgana's sake, and three, Dumbledore has always treated you like a second class citizen so why the fuck do you want to do it?' Exasperated, Lily slammed her hand on the table. They all froze as the monitoring spell on Harry sounded his fussing into the kitchen, but relaxed as the baby obviously fell back to sleep.

'So reason four would be Lily doesn't want me to do it', said Severus drily. 

'The con side is longer', said Remus.

'I don't think the cons outweigh the pros though, and looking at your faces, James, Sirius, even you, Wolf, I think you agree with me. I don't think anyone else can get in like this, and I think, given what's been happening, we're going to need someone, and soon. Plus, I can carry on my potions work when I'm not trying to stop an entire house being swallowed up by Voldemort, without giving away that to him, Lucius or any spies he might have; meaning I'll be able to comp certain potions as part of my benefits package. Lastly I can try and set up a network to get muggleborns out if his policies start going through. Unless Dumbledore is doing that, no one else is going to, and he's so confident everyone will learn to love each other that there's no way he has that set up.'

'You have to sort out an escape route for you first, Sev, or we're not going to let you do it.' As surprising as it would have been even a year ago, it was James' firm voice that laid down the group's ultimatum. There was a long pause as Severus gazed darkly into James' face, but in the end he nodded. 

'Fine', Lily said wearily. 'We need you to talk to your cousin and come up with paperwork covering your arse for all this, we need to make contacts for extraction points for you and muggleborns and families, we need to find out where the fuck Peter is this month, you need to time finishing your studies for what, June? And I need to go to bed before I pass out, because Harry will wake up in two hours wanting food.' She looked directly at Severus. 'You are ours first, Sev, and if you are going to do this stupid thing then you have to let us help you. Even Pads. Be snarly at each other in public, but at home, we're pack, and we have all got your back. You're back in what, three months? So we should have things in place then. And if anyone, anyone at all, wakes up Harry on the way out, then you either learn to lactate in a hurry or rock him for the next two hours, maybe three.'

As she walked off up the stairs, Sirius, Severus and Remus started gathering their things quietly together, ready to leave. On the doorstep outside, as Sirius bummed a cigarette off Remus and they all lit up, Severus decided he was going to get something that had been bothering him for a while off his chest.

'Where is Pettigrew, anyway? I thought you guys were close, but I haven't seen him since school.'

Sirius and Remus glanced at each other, and gestured for him to follow them across the garden to the corner the Harley was parked on. 

'I'm guessing that wasn't a casual question, so we need to talk.' For once Sirius was completely focused on Severus, who suddenly had an insight into Auror Black, rather than Sirius or Padfoot. It was actually rather reassuring.

'Peter has always been a bit cagey, a bit on the edge, but he went a bit weird just after school ended. I don't even think he knows you're, well, like Lily said, pack. I haven't spoken to him for, what, two years?' He turned to a Remus, who nodded, and picked up the conversation. 'There was a card from Leipzig and a stuffed toy rat -you know he's a rat animagus, don't you? - when Harry was born, and a couple of letters at birthdays, but he's apparently researching ritual magic in Eastern Europe for a book with Coppers & Fielding.'

'Which is bloody odd, if you ask me, because if anyone was going to be a writer, it would be Remy here. The guy who rewrote Peter's essays for seven bloody years because he had as much grasp on grammar as a hinkypunk has of quidditch. So I asked after him at Coppers, and they've never heard of him.' Sirius tool a drag on his cigarette as Remus took over again.

'Now, he could be writing on spec, like Dumbledore says, but he made it sound like this was a contracted book. Rather lorded it over me, if I'm honest, which is Peter all over if he thinks he's scored a point.'

'Thing is, he can be a bit economical with the truth, can Peter, and hard to pin down. Fun at school, sort of, but times like these, he's not someone you can absolutely trust to have your back unless he's trying to hide behind you.'

'A bit harsh, Pads...' murmured Remus. Sirius sighed, and shook his head. 'Look', he said, looking directly at Severus as he flicked his cigarette into the road. 'None of us have mentioned you to him, because we don't know anymore what his reaction would be. It might be that whole growing up and apart thing, it might be that he always was a little odd, looking back; but if he is searching out leylines and sacrificing goats, then what he doesn't know makes no difference. And if he is cutting loose, then he doesn't need to know. But something is tickling the back of my neck about this, and after two years training and two on the job, I've learned to pay attention to that, 'cause if something feels shady, it generally is. And Peter is acting as shady as fuck. So, I think you should steer clear if he turns up, and we'll warn you if he does, but I'd suggest keeping your eyes open. And on that note, coming Moony?'

Surprisingly, Remus reached over and gave Severus a quick hug. 'For luck', he smiled. Severus sniffed. 'I'm not the one getting on that death trap with the Hell Hound, thank you very much'. But he threw a quick half smile their way, and as the ridiculous machine started up Severus turned smartly on his heels and disapparated.


	3. Gang Aft Agley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus is unexpectedly summoned for Marking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, where Severus is unexpectedly Marked, has been referred to as 'harrowing'. It contains torture, rape, fear and mental breakdown from a first person perspective. If these are likely to be triggers for you, then please exercise choice and skip to the next chapter.

The pain was blinding, worse than the time his Dad had taken the chair leg to his back. Worse than the time he'd knocked him down the stairs. Shit, so many to choose from; that was depressing. Well, now he had a new gold standard. Getting Voldemort's Mark was the worst pain Severus had ever experienced, and his Occlumency walls were going to start cracking if it didn't stop...right..

...Now. Oh thank the gods, it was done, and Voldemort was moving on to the next poor dumb fucker, and he was still alive. It wasn't until the third man in the line up's time had come that Severus had realised that surviving the rite itself wasn't automatically a given. The man's heart had just given up, and he'd been tossed on the pile of corpses in the corner of the room. And hadn't that been a fun surprise? A pile, a fucking pile of corpses, right in front of him. No warning from Lucius about that little golden nugget, just a comment that as a Potion Master Severus was exempt from a certain part of the initiation ritual. 

The rising hysterical giggle was quickly shoved behind his mental walls. Exempt from the part where the brand new Death Eaters hunted, raped, tortured and killed their very own muggle. Muggles, for fucks sake, like they had had any chance against a sadist with a wand grabbing them off the street. Two candidates had fallen there, refusing with their last shred of honour intact to rape and kill, and had been painfully slaughtered by the insane whirlwind that was Bellatrix LeStrange. As were, of course, the muggles they had died to save, thrown like toys to the ravening mob. Blood everywhere, screams tearing the night apart and now, still more screams as the hellish Mark seared into flesh and magic.

Another candidate dead. Four out of the ten presented. Not a healthy retention rate, all things considered. No, make that five. Merlin! How had Nott survived this at his age? Movement. People shuffling into rows, some moving with less ease than others. Unsurprisingly, given the amount of Cruciatus flung around this room for the last two hours. Bowing. Everyone bowing. The crack of disapparation as Voldemort and his fucking snake left the room. 

Ah yes, the Big. Fucking. Snake. Merlin, Loki and Anansi, but that was a big snake. He would have liked a little warning about the snake. Fucking Lucius. A man should mention these things. Then again, what with the big fucking pile of corpses alone, he might just have declined his invitation if he'd have known what the 'Special Ceremony' had involved. Like there had been an invitation. Like there had been a fucking choice. He should be sitting with Lily and James, listening to Sirius taking the piss, not stood in front of a fucking big pile of fucking corpses. Oh god, he was going to have to watch all these things again in the Department and the Big. Fucking. Snake. That, if he concentrated on, might block his view of the nurse. Snake. Eating what might be a house elf but in any case was small with one shoe. SNAKE. THINK OF THE SNAKE.

A hand on his elbow. Lucius. Fucking Lucius. You could go right off some people, you know? There he was, thinking Lucius was completely, probably, separate from the violence, the terrorism, the murders; thinking the Inner Circle was somehow separate from the Death Eaters of the war, spokesman for a fucking intellectual/political dinner party gathering. They were all fucking Death Eaters. Cheering each other on, and oh yes, Severus had heard Lucius' voice amongst them, had seen his hand flying on his prick as the Muggles had screamed and struggled and

Merlin, he was Draco's godfather. His godson had this piece of steaming shit as a father, and while no-one could award Tobias Forever-Damned Snape a Father of the Year Trophy Severus was pretty damn sure he'd never stood in a room cheering and wanking while

Fuck, he needed to go. He couldn't stay, he was too close to breaking, and if he broke here it was for Nothing, Nothing at all, and some other dumb fuck with an idealistic streak was going to come here and die because he couldn't hold his mind together. How long is the socially acceptable time to leave after a death orgy? Narcissa never covered this in her Gentle Introduction For Poor Dear Halfbloods. It hadn't been on the curriculum, not even for Slytherin House. Was one expected to help hose down the blood and shit. No, no, that was for the freaky masked fucking house elves. Masked house elves. You couldn't make it up. Tiny masked house elves with tiny Death Eater masks picking up tiny

He needed to get Draco and run like fuck before Draco got moulded into thinking anything about that room was ok. He needed to find Sirius and tell him that he was the best and wisest man he knew for escaping from that fucked up family and could he please just fuck him until his brain stopped screaming at him about the shoe, the little shoe, it was right there in front of the snake and

Lucius saying something about a port key home, and fuck yes, because Spinners End, no snakes at Spinners End, Sirius was waiting at Spinners End and Sirius would take him to

Black whirling noise and no clear vision, and flying and landing and being sick, sick for days and days and days and 'Severus, Severus, can you move, fuck, Severus, Mysteries, yeah mate, you need to come through, bring a healer, this is just fucked', and retching then 'ok, Mr Snape, we're going to move you to the couch, what the hell has happened here, severe shock and disassociation, we need to get him to the clinic, THIS MAN NEEDS A MIND HEALER.'

The shoe on the floor in front of him and

Severus, I'm here mate, listen to the healer, ok? I've got you mate

Oh Merlin

The shoe was so small Sirius, it was so

Severus, I'm going to take these memories out; just think of where you were at seven pm and focus on the start of that memory. Just the start, Severus, stepping through the Floo to Malfoy Manor, I'll get the rest, I'll take it all out, Severus, and your cousin can take it away, and you don't ever have to see it again, Severus, now, seven o'clock and you're going to use the Floo

A wall ahead and a warm chest behind and strong arms around and It's ok mate, I've got you and Sev, oh Sev, love, come back to us, we're all here, we're all here Sev, that's it, it's ok to cry Sev, I've got you mate, I've got you, you're safe here, oh god, James, what have we done 

I've got you mate

 

I've got you.


	4. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the Marking Rite.

The memories were still present, in a way. In a way that made them flat, like muggle newsprint photos that couldn't move; like dry prose read in a monotonous whisper, holding facts but few feelings.

Only his strong mental shields and the dose of Felix Felis had held his mind together, the healer had said, the healer his cousin had thought to have on standby just in case he came through the Floo physically injured. There wasn't a scratch on him, though by virtue of his being ordered to stand closest 'to make up for not being able to partake', his robes and hair were drenched in blood. By the time James and Lily had got through the Floo, summoned by their emergency protean charms, Sirius was himself a blood-smeared monstrosity, refusing to let go of the broken wreck of a man in his arms, the healer working around him to spool the hellishly long silver mist of memory away from Severus' temple. 

Lily, the only one of them with the presence of mind to do so, had dissolved their clothes, scourgified their skin and hair, and spun soft robes around them without ever separating them. James had enlarged the couch into a bed and transfigured the coffee table into a bed for Lily and himself while Lily murmured through to Alice that no, they had to stay where they were but she would be through to feed Harry when he woke. These last were the memories after the newsprint, the ones with colour and texture and scent. Lily and James by the firelight, watching over him, while Sirius just held him through the chemical backwash of terror even when his mind had stopped trying to fly apart. Had held him all night, was still holding him in the early dawn when finally the tears had come again, had held him safe.

This man who had once hated him, whom he had hated, now his saviour; the one who had held him together when he couldn't do it himself.

This man who looked into the eyes of his oldest friend and knew that there was no fucking way that either of them would have been able to deal with what the man in his arms had dealt with, knowing that in the days ahead both of them would have to sink into the Mysteries Pensieve and try and sift through images to identify who they could. Both thanking Merlin that Lily was on leave and would not be allowed to see them until she returned.

As dawn rose, Lily slipped back through the Floo after visiting home to feed Harry, and quietly began spelling away all traces of blood and vomit missed in the panic of the night. Used to early mornings and late nights from their work as Aurors, let alone as new parents, James quietly rolled off the bed and restored it to the coffee table Eileen Prince had polished every day, while Lily made tea in the kitchen. When she came back into the room the two men were, finally, lying down, and Severus was at long last asleep. Over his shoulder Sirius mouthed 'go home, rest, I've got him'. 

They nodded, and stepped through to Godric's Hollow, where they, too, held each other for a long time. 

\----------------------------

 

Four hours later James floo'd into the Ministry, and filed a 'Leave of Absence' form for Sirius, and the 'Seconded to the Department Of Mysteries' form for them both, initialled neatly by Severus's cousin, before handing their caseload over to the grumbling duty officer.

He swallowed a bit nervously before entering the DOM, and submitted his wand again to be scanned. He turned at the sound of footsteps coming towards him, and stepped forward to shake hands with Severus' cousin.

'Thank you for allowing us in on this, Mycroft. Sirius is staying with Severus today, and if Sev's up to it, I'll stay with him tomorrow while Sirius comes in.'

'Not a problem, James, I'm glad of the help. I can identify certain aspects of individuals present, of course, and that hopefully will jog yours or Mr Black's memory for names and faces, but without having any names to go by this will be a long, tedious job. And one I would rather spare Severus, if possible. It is regrettable in the utmost that we will have to ask him to go back at all, but I think it necessary that we treat this as a short term placement of no more than a year. If we can't break apart this nest of vipers in that time then we will have exhausted all we can expect of an untrained man.'

'A year? There's no way he could do that again, Mycroft! It damn near killed him!'

'And if he had to take the Mark fresh each time then undoubtedly it would do so, but thankfully that is a one time event, designed to totally crack open a mind to examination. Having deceived him once, under extreme physical, mental and emotional torture, his mind will hold under even Cruciatus in future. We can also assist him in various exercises to strengthen his mind further, and if I know my cousin his mind will soon be working toward potion support to that end. Severus is a genius, James, and I do not use that word lightly or to indulge lesser intellect. He did not break. He will not break in the future. I give you my word.' 

'I will hold you to that. We didn't... Look, you are his cousin. You'll know we didn't get on at school. But we grew up, all of us, and he is dear to all of us now. I can't let him be hurt like that again.

Mycroft smiled. It wasn't a particularly warm smile, more one of someone who has learned that there are occasions when smiling is appropriate, and this was one. 'An admirable - pack, I believe you call it? -an admirable pack mentality, and one my cousin has badly needed in his life. Ah, we need to go through here. Please allow me to go through first, as the wards are complex.'

The Pensieve was one of the older models, with plenty of room for two or three investigators to immerse themselves simultaneously. Landing inside the memory, James looked curiously around at the dedicated Floo room they were in with the hooded and masked Severus and, presumably, Malfoy, the hand clutching Severus's arm tight to the point of pain. If this was the Malfoy Manor, then regrettably Lucius knew his stuff. A fireplace in an otherwise completely featureless room, windowless and doorless, it looked like countless other secure Floo rooms he'd been in as an Auror; designed to Floo into and be apparated out by the host. Judging by Mycroft's 'tsk' of annoyance, he understood the other man likewise was getting nothing useful from the room. 

Malfoy obviously knew the drill, for he stood motionless, clearly waiting. After five minute two more figures side-along apparated into the room, masked and gowned in black like Severus. They nodded courteously at each other before turning to the Floo. The first called out 'Headquarters', stepping through, and the other gestured to Severus and his 'sponsor', clearly indicating they should go next. 

The ride was short, indicating that the Floos were either close or directly linked, and James only counted three other fireplaces before they were stepping through into an identical room. A house elf with a plain paper mask obscuring the face appeared and apparated them through, presumably, the wall, before leaving the duo in what could only be described as a throne room, complete with a severely plain granite throne, over which undulated the shimmering coils of a colossal snake. There were maybe fifty, sixty other figures in the room, and without comment James and Mycroft separated to inspect them as best as they could as Severus moved forward, propelled by Malfoy.No one spoke, or even rose their masked faces, as the memory moved on, though one figure took Severus' arm and moved him to stand to the front and centre of the crowd.

Pensieves showed the memory entire, and Aurors were trained extensively to set the emotional state of the witness aside; that said James could not help but be aware of the feeling of fear and tension that poured of everyone in the room. He looked at Mycroft, who gestured to freeze the memory.

'Do you have a werewolf in the department? Or a wolf animagus?

Mycroft looked intrigued. 'Your reason?'

James shrugged. 'Severus obviously took in a lot of sensory information, more than most witnesses. His Potions experience, probably. A werewolf might be able to clarify the scent information of the people he had closer contact with. Useless over by these fuzzy edges or too far away, but I know Remy would be able to separate the nearer scents. Maybe a canine animagus could as well, but you might need a Were to get as much precision as possible'

Mycroft stood still, and James had the distinct impression that he was shuffling through his memory for the information. 'No werewolves; though obviously that needs to be addressed. We don't have any lupine or domestic canine animagi; I imagine they aren't drawn to our department, that's more an Auror characteristic. I wonder if a hyena would have the same ability. If not, we might have to prevail on Mr Lupin's time and generosity. Wolfsbane Potion, obviously, but we can arrange for Severus' improved version. He should have enough time to brew it, if he can begin tomorrow. Any other thoughts?'

James pointed. 'Shoes. Shoes and hands, mostly. Some have got hair wisping out, not many, but I would stake my magic on that being Bellatrix LeStrange, and the build is right and the hands are definitely female. There's a bloke here next to Severus who was wearing his family ring until a minute ago, the dickhead, and I bet Sev clocked it good before he glamoured it. I've seen two with very flash footwear, and at least one with muggle made shoes, would you believe. The man next to me hasn't glamoured his hands, and he's got liver spots which suggest he's fairly old. Three of them are wearing gloves, which might be identified if we have a look through Malkin's or the other retailers' back collections, but might be house elf made, in which case they may be distinctive. Hard to say, but worth looking into. The robes are identical, as are the masks, so I think they aren't going to take us far, but if we keep an eye out at funerals someone might be stupid and wear the robes rather than buy new ones.'

Mycroft raised one eyebrow, and James grinned impishly at him. 'Believe it or not, I'm good at my job. But there's a reason Sirius is senior, and you need him in here, because he picks up what I miss.'

They turned back to their work. Not long after the memory resumed, Voldemort apparated in. The only one in the room unmasked, he had a strongly featured face that would once have been called handsome, if not for the twisted sneer of his mouth and the crimson eyes that blazed with a hellish satisfaction as the group of Muggleborns was dragged into the room. James waved to stop the memory.

 

'That massive one there can only be Goyle. The little scrap next to him is Wilkes, I'm sure of it. He was always Goyle's shadow at school. Total case of less friend, more bodyguard, but he's got a disgusting mind. He'll have brought the child. He was expelled after Owls because he'd Obliviated a first year, but not prosecuted, so he kept his wand. He's on our watch list. Goyle is mostly muscle, stupid as fuck but Lucius could wind him up and let him go.'

They resumed the memory, taking breaks when the initiation rites were too harrowing, even with their training, to watch. Through it all Severus stood at the very front of the crowd, becoming deliberately soaked with blood spray and forced to witness depravities. Even the two refusing initiates were dragged in front of him to be executed, Voldemort clearly directing their placement with a dark gleeful leer. His Marking, too, seemed more drawn out, as if Voldemort was trying to break him down through personal pain where the ritual slaughter had not. Voldemort had been enraged by this point, and the next two initiates died screaming before he regained control of the marking spell. Suddenly James gasped. A Death Eater scurried in front of Severus to retrieve some small object for Voldemort,and for a moment his hand was clearly visible partway back to his wrist, showing a scar of four faint lines.

'Merlin, no, dear god. I think that's Peter.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, come on now. Mycroft is CLEARLY a Wizarding name.


	5. A Study In Amber

Mycroft Holmes sat in his favourite chair, reviewing the past 36 hours. It was unfortunate that Severus had not been able to receive more mental training or preparation before the Marking ceremony, but on the whole the insertion had thankfully been successful. Now the way needed to be cleared to induct a more permanent operative before extracting Severus, including rigorous protective mental and emotional training. Given the toll exacted on the body, the operative would need to be in the peak of physical health.

The Department of Mysteries was, by definition, the least understood department in the Ministry of Magic, a position that suited Mycroft and those he worked for well. People fear and avoid what they don't understand, and years of well-planted rumour and partially glimpsed activities had disguised them well. 

The Muggles took a different approach, of course, with their culture of heroic and dashing espionage legends, which Mycroft completely failed to understand. The whole point of espionage was to operate, unseen and unsuspected, within the enemy organisation. The most successful operatives were part of the target culture already, or desired by them for various reasons, and the smooth, dashing operatives of muggle fiction stuck out like a Hungarian Horntail to those practiced in counter-espionage. No cover was stronger than the target wanting to recruit the asset themselves.

Severus was the perfect spy for the initial placement, with the targets actively seeking him, but long term he would be emotionally and mentally damaged by constant exposure to the violent fieldwork and, frankly, wasted on the assignment. Black, on the other hand, had been intriguing. Of course, both he and Potter had come to his attention within weeks of joining the Academy; that their synchronous working style would mesh to make a near perfect investigative team was obvious from early on. But while Potter split his attention between Black and Lily Potter, making him an excellent future leader but not, perhaps, Mysteries material, Black also had high commendations for his solo field work. Surprisingly, given his outward persona, he was reported as being tenacious, measured and considered in his approach and willing to take the long view to solving cases rather than the somewhat flashy approach that might have been expected. His age and physical condition were also in his favour, as was his unregistered, but not unobserved, animagus ability.

Mycroft gazed, deep in thought, into the golden whiskey handed him by his house elf. The self-styled 'pack' was close knit, publicly so, which, while necessitating a slow public breach to be believable, meant that there would be an excellent support network already in place should Black be amenable. As far as the field agent tasked to Severus had been able to ascertain, there was no traceable connection between him and the other pack members, which meant that unless Voldemort was far more skilled than they suspected, the Death Eaters were unaware of the friendship. A public breach; failed attempts at reconciliation; a request to work apart and tentative family rapprochement; all would work to create a public cover for Black in which his moving into the Department could fit well. His parents were known to be dark and to have disowned Black, yet a concerted digging effort had showed that the magical documents confirming his exile and Regulus' Heir status had not been filed. Clearly Orion had not wanted to confirm Walpurga's proclamation legally, perhaps hoping for rapprochement. 

With his brother and cousin already inside the organisation, and the misguided Rookwood within the Department already, believing himself unsuspected, a 'disaffected' Black would be a perfect target for Voldemort to recruit. 

He rose from his chair, placing his glass on the table, and crossed to the window. The apparent Diagon Alley apartment door actually opened into the Holmes' summer house in the small Cornish village of Trewissick, and his study overlooked the wild autumn beauty of Kemare Head. There was wild magic here too, which played havoc with surveillance spells and rendered wand magic unstable, but for those who had the ability, the wards here were unbreakable, and it made for a perfect training place to learn to guide the pure magic within them.

He sighed. So many wizards believed that wild magic needed to be tamed by wands, bonds and redirection into 'light' or 'dark' magic, depending on the family's innate leanings, not realising that every 'accidental magic outburst' by an untrained wizard was proof that so much more was available to them. The Prince and Holmes, Prewett, Potter, Malfoy and Black families were all descended through bloodlines strong in wild magic thanks to their occasional magical creature intermingling, which also explained the strong magical cores, animagi and metamorphmagi ability in so many of their offspring. It also led to less desirable traits -the psychotic instability of many Blacks, the rampant narcissistic personality disorders displayed by so many Malfoys, the squibs that dotted the Holmes' tree, true; but strong infusions of magic led to extremes in any magical creature, wizards included. 

Luckily, Black showed none of the Black family psychosis, which tended to manifest at puberty's Magical Inheritance and was the key reason for so many arranged early marriages in that family before the affected Black lost control of their magic in their fifties. Unusually for a Black, his magic was evenly balanced between Light and Dark, according to his Hogwarts intake report (the Hat had not been created to assess Wild Magic capability), and according to Dumbledore's preferences such children were always directed away from Slytherin. While this had undoubtedly kept him from being recruited earlier, and led to his eventual rift with his family, it would ironically have made him a better asset for this op, as the will of those wanting to believe one form of magic was naturally superior to another would lead them to also want to believe that the Blood would eventually prevail.

A simultaneous extraction project would have to be undertaken to remove Severus from the organisation and retrain, while infiltrating Sirius in. The public feud would be useful, there, in keeping their actual relationship hidden. Time was also needed to secure the Goblins aid in working out how to free them both from the Mark's penalty curses while leaving potentially useful aspects in place, as well as working to strengthen Black's natural Occlumency shields, obvious both from his animagus ability and the Hat's inability to talk directly to Sirius's mind, leading it to placing him in Gryffindor more on his initial assessment with Dumbledore than the Sorting Ceremony. 

The most disturbing element of the evening, as far as Mycroft was concerned, was the targeting of the victims. Sensing no magic from any of them, Severus had naturally presumed all were Muggles. Dumped in Winchester town centre overnight, however, the bodies had been found in the early hours, and preliminary testing had shown that each body had a very faint magical signature. The victims all were muggle born or abandoned Squibs, any one of whom, on having children with a magic user, would have had a 75% chance of bearing magical offspring. Voldemort clearly had access to the Ministry's Hall of Records, where each magical birth was registered, if only by trace levels. The aim was clear - to not only target Muggleborns and Squibs, but to prevent the next generation from being born. 

Voldemort, or someone in his organisation, understood genetics. Eugenics, to be precise.

The Wizard/Muggle veil had been breached beyond the Department and Magical/Muggle Liaison organisations in the higher levels of both Governments.

Severus was too important to waste on the Death Eaters, but the Death Eaters were too important to not have a dedicated agent inside to track down the scientist.

His mind was made up. He would observe Black tomorrow, but based on his current research, he would be recruiting him for the role.


	6. Into The Den

'Severus, darling! Congratulations.' Narcissa Malfoy kissed the air next to both sides of Severus' face, and he bowed, lifted her outstretched hand and brought it to his lips. 

'Lady Narcissa, your kindness has been the joy of my life', Severus replied smoothly. Well, four years in Italy had to have had other benefits than the crisp new scroll proclaiming him to be a Potions Master of the First Rank; the highest possible qualification, outranking the retiring Slughorn by three clear levels. The party tonight, theoretically honouring both the soon to be Emeritus Professor and the most acclaimed new Potion Master Magical Britain had seen in nearly 60 years, was in reality cementing Severus in the eyes of the Ministry and media as the only clear choice for the profession. 

Narcissa had outdone herself with the guest list, of course. Fully two thirds of the Board of Governors was in attendance, as well as most of the Slug Club of the last thirty years. Madam Hooch, the former Scotland Quidditch Captain and newest staff member at Hogwarts as their fêted Quidditch coach, represented the school along with the elderly Professor Binns; the Head and Deputy Head being sadly unavailable. Reporters from The Wizarding Times, Daily Prophet, Evening Staff and Witch Weekly circulated, along with specially selected photographers, and the Minister of Magic, Benedict McKinnon and his wife Merrilee had made a grand, and typically eccentric entrance half an hour earlier.

Narcissa swept him over to Lucius, who was deep in conversation with the Minister, while the urbane Evan Rosier flirted with his wife. 

'Minister, Madam McKinnon, Lucius, I hate to interrupt, but allow me to present the Master of the moment, our good friend Severus Snape.' 

Severus exchanged the neat bows currently in vogue, and enjoyed several minutes of light conversation about Florence before Narcissa skilfully whisked the Minister's wife back into the social whirl with a light 'Merrilee, darling, you simply must come and speak with Rolanda Hooch, you will simply adore her.'

The Minister took the opportunity to snag two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, and offered one to Severus. 'Dr Snape, I cannot stand to see you not avail yourself of Lucius' fine cellar.' Not noticing the slight tic in Lucius jaw, he continued 'So, what are your next intentions, eh? Research? Potion Master to the Malfoys? I am sure any institution would be happy to attract a man of your calibre; be happy to put a word in edgeways for you, what?

Smoothly Lucius intervened. 'Minister, much as I would be honoured to support Severus' research, he quite insists on repaying the Wizarding community with educating the next generation of Potion Masters, despite my enticements to the contrary'.

The Minister beamed. 'Doctor Snape, I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear it. We lose too many experts to the rarified heights of research, and yet look at Slughorn there. Marvellous chap, but has been carrying the weight of educating our students by himself, and you can see he's exhausted. You know, you should apply at Hogwarts. Or is it Oxford you're thinking of? Now Hogwarts, there would be the ticket. Get them when they've young, get them keen about the bubbling cauldron and reel them in for life, that's what I say, what? No, no, say no more. I'll Floo Dumbledore tomorrow, we'll get an interview up and running, you'll bring credit to us all.'

Stunned at the ease, Severus could only bow as the Minister was guided to the next dignitary, and Severus came face to face with Sirius, who was clearly the Minister's escort. Both bowed coldly, but politely to each other, and Severus made a faint grimace of distaste as he turned away. Rosier stepped up towards him, walking away with him towards the ballroom's french windows with a laugh in his voice. 

'Still bitter after all this time, Severus? Our Lord won't like that, you know.'

Keeping the polite mask in place, Severus turned to face him. 'What on earth are you talking about?'

'Lucius hasn't told you yet? He broke with Potter's lot while you were away. Left the old fool's gang of fools, took a reassignment to the Department of Mysteries rather than work with Potter anymore.'

'Does anyone know why? I mean, it's a bit odd, don't you think?'

'The word is he used 'Imperio' on a witness, and Potter caught him and turned him in. Obviously he's not a Black for nothing; Priori Incanto came up clean on his wand, but Potter was adamant the witness showed the signs and there was enough doubt that the case collapsed without him. They duelled right there outside the courtroom and had to be stunned and separated before they could even be taken to St Mungo's. He was in there for two weeks.'

'Merlin, what did that moron Potter do to him to keep him in that long?'

'Shattered his right leg, and cast a babbling charm with Vi Veritatis. They fused, somehow, and he couldn't stop pouring his heart out to anyone who asked him anything.'

'Fuck, that's beautiful. Do they know which babbling charm? Because that could be useful, don't you think?'

Rosier laughed. 'We're on it already. Haven't found it yet, but we'll get there. Anyway, Narcissa and Lucius had a stroke of genius, and got her in to see him. Family heartbroken, mending fences and all that. You'll have to have a drink with Lucius some time, as apparently the whole thing was hysterical, but after asking any amount of embarrassing questions -and let's just say, there won't be any little Sirius' running around without some seriously strong Amortentia - they got into the good stuff.'

Severus raised an eyebrow. 'Good stuff? From that wastrel?'

Rosier drew Severus closer to the doors as a laughing couple danced past, and they slipped onto the deserted balcony. 'Oh, very good stuff. Not so much for Potter's lot, but simply lovely for us. He wasn't aiming the wolf at you at all, for instance; he just knew that Potter would get cold feet, come rescue you, and the plan was that in all the shouting Potter would get bitten. He's a bloody big dog, y'see, an unregistered animagus, and he used to stay with the wolf, get him all riled up, try and take Potter out! Hey Presto, King of Gryffindor and likely made Potter Heir in his place due to his being the poor disowned best friend. And with the Potter seat come, and this is beautiful, four Wizengamot seats. To go with the six Black seats.'

'But he was disowned, so why did he count the Black seats? And the stupid mutt couldn't have seen that I wouldn't have been attacked anyway. This makes no sense, Rosier.'

'Ah, Severus, Severus. It does, once you know that he'd never been disowned at all. '

Severus couldn't help the way his jaw dropped at that. Rosier smirked at his expression. 'Had everyone fooled, the Potters, Dumbledore, the works. Everyone bar the Goblins, probably, and they'll never tell, of course. They'd cooked it up between them, him and Old Black, and kept it from Regulus and the Hag, but Gringotts recognise him as the heir alright.'

'Merlin's balls, that's some long con. So why is he not Lord Potter?'

'Because Charlus died before he could get another chance, and now the brat's been born he'd have to kill off all three, which is a tad more tricky and a sight more obvious. He's got his seats now he's of age, and I imagine actually having the Black vaults rather than waiting for the Black vaults has changed his perspective enough. Maybe he'll marry the extra seats, if he's that interested in a swing vote position.'

'Bloody hell. I mean, the man's still a turd. He still could have killed me'.

'You are going to have to let it lie, Snape. Look at it as a compliment. He obviously thought you could handle yourself against the wolf, after all. Anyway, so Bella went to visit next, and she said you could smell the Dark magic he'd been using. Got him ranting about the Mudblood slut and the half blood brat, three days later the curse wears off and he's out of hospital, throwing the Order out of Grimmauld Place and asking Rastaban and Regulus to re-ward the place against Light magic.'

'Well, I imagine that explains why he's with the Minister here. Can't see Lucius allowing many Aurors over the threshold', Severus mused. 'But you say he's moved to Mysteries now?'

'They've loaned him back for tonight. But our boy's an Unspeakable in good standing, something to do with Dark Artifacts, according to Rookwood.'

'Our boy?' Severus enquired, the eyebrow rising again.

Rosier laughed out loud. 'So new, the robes still chafe on his arm. Bella sponsored, Lucius seconded, all done and dusted with, get this, a rogue werewolf. Not Lupin, sadly, as apparently he's hoping to bring him over, but a nice touch of Our Lord's, don't you think?'

Severus chuckled. 'Evan, if this was the highlights version, I can't wait to get drunk with Lucius later. This is truly a momentous night, my friend.'

Rosier clapped him on the back. 'Don't get him too drunk till after the raid. We all need to be nice and visible while Dolohov's team thins the Order out'. 

He moved out into the ballroom while Severus headed to the nearest washroom. He needed to charm a message on his protean charm to Lily to warn of the raid, then be visibly enjoying his party. He'd even be publicly polite to Sirius if need be. Well, maybe not just yet. A smirk, maybe. That cover, with just the right amount of avarice and embarrassment, was a work of sheer genius. He must remember to congratulate Mycroft tomorrow.


	7. Manipulations

Dear Mr. Snape

I was delighted to hear from Minister McKinnon that you had completed your Potions Mastery with the highest possible ranking. You are a credit to Slytherin House and all your professors here at Hogwarts, and I hope you know that we are all very proud of your achievement.

As I am sure you have heard, Professor Slughorn tendered his resignation, effective from the end of this current school year. Minister McKinnon contacted me this morning and urged me, in the strongest terms, to consider you for the post, in response to what he termed as your committed desire to enthuse the next generation with a love for Potions. I must confess, I had not thought you would be interested in teaching, but I am very pleased to hear this is so. Professor Slughorn leaves not only the Potions position, but also that of Head of Slytherin, and I would like very much to hear your thoughts on these roles.

I will be meeting with candidates for various staff positions at The Hogs Head on Friday this week, and I hope that you will be able to meet me for dinner there. Shall we say 7pm? I await your owl at your earliest convenience, and remain

Yours sincerely, 

Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore 

\--------

Lucius passed the letter back to Severus. 'Narcissa will be so pleased. Do keep us all informed as to how this goes, won't you.'

'Of course, Lucius. Do you know of these other positions to be filled?'

'Muggle Studies, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Divination, of course.' Lucius drawled. 'So surprising that Middlewind did not foretell his own end. Bella said the look of astonishment on his face was rather delicious. DADA has the same problem as ever, and Muggle Studies, well, who cares about that? Unlikely, our Lord feels, that a good Slytherin would bother with either post, and so, as there are no other candidates for the House Headship, retaining your services would rather neatly solve the Board's problem.'

Severus nodded, and rose to make his adieus. Flooing back to Spinners End, he placed a quick call to Mycroft, and checked the time. 6:45pm. Stepping into the flames, he called out 'The Hogs Head, Hogsmeade', and vanished.

The noise as he stepped through the pub's fireplace was very loud even at this hour, and Severus had to shout before the barman heard his request. Roughly he jabbed his thumb in the direction of the small door to the left of the bar, and, gesturing his thanks, headed over. The door was clearly old and heavy, but spelled for ease in opening, and as it swung back closed Severus breathed a sigh of relief at the noise reduction.

Ahead of him was a short corridor to a staircase leading to a door that was slightly ajar, and, presuming that was his interview room, Severus strode up to the staircase. He could hear what was clearly the last sentences of a not particularly successful interview, based on the slightly hysterical tones of Dumbledore's guest floating down the stairs. The voice, oddly, changed as he took the next step, and Severus stilled in surprise.  
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies "

Hurriedly Severus took a couple of steps back as the door above banged shut. He slipped back down the corridor and out into the pub, where he stood a moment, trying to think what to do next. Looking up, he caught the attention of the barman again,and mouthed 'Sorry, this one?' while gesturing at the door, and was rewarded with a somewhat annoyed wave. Hopefully the busy man hadn't seen him already go in once, but this time Severus made a bit more production of opening the door, and was clearly watched by the man as he entered. Just coming down the stairs was a witch in dreadful glasses and clothes that screamed seventies hippy, looking vastly pleased with herself. Severus politely held open the door for her, and set off confidently, and noisily, up the stairs, to where Professor Dumbledore stood, beaming affably. Making certain his occlumency shields were at full strength and drenched in the warm sunlight of his Italian memories, Severus shook his hand firmly and stepped into the room ahead.

\-----------------

The newest Potions Master for Hogwarts and Head of Slytherin House (pending Board confirmation) stepped out of the Floo and into the old stone house in Trewissick. The elderly house elf took his cloak and showed him into Mycroft's study, where the garden door allowed a cool, calming breeze to circulate..

 

'... And so, you see, we have a problem', concluded Severus. 'There are only going to be a handful of children at most who fit the description, and right off the top of my head the one that comes first to mind is Harry Potter. Both parents Aurors, both have been active in Order strikes against Voldemort, and of course he'll be one at the end of July. Whatever this 'marking as his equal' is, I couldn't begin to guess, but the whole vanquishing and death business -Merlin, he's a baby!'

Mycroft sat back heavily in his chair. His cousin was clearly distressed, which was uncomfortable, but he had to admit to respecting his deductive reasoning, for an amateur. Without having his clerk pull records, which might alert interested parties, (he made a mental note to spell all summer files for the last year of magical births anyway, just to have him notified as to who might be looking) there was only one other candidate he was aware of personally, the young Longbottom heir. The Longbottoms were, like the Potters, dedicated Order members and Aurors, and had been on many of the same strike teams.

'You are quite sure that you weren't noticed?', he asked Sevurus shook his head and explained. 'The barman waved me to the correct door, but he was serving the dinner crowd, so didn't stop to notice me go in. The door is spelled to be light and quiet, and the door at the top was ajar.'

Mycroft frowned. 'Granted, most interviews aren't held under strict protocols, but there are a few things that trouble me. Firstly, it is term time, and Owl examinations time at that, so why were the interviews held outside of the school in his brother's pub, of all places? Secondly, the open door doesn't sit well. You may have opened and closed the downstairs door quietly, but if the bar noise was at typical levels for early Friday evening at the Hogs Head, then there would have been a significant noise bleed through, which Dumbledore would have heard. Lastly, the prophecy declamation was at, or very close to, the time you were scheduled to be at the door.'

Severus looked thoughtfully at Mycroft. 'I thought it might be a fake, to convince Dumbledore to give her the job. From how you've presented it, however, you think that was for my benefit, don't you.'

'I rather think so, Severus. Your name has not come up as conclusively linked to Voldemort's Death Eaters, but you have been flagged numerous times by Unspeakables due to your friendship with the Malfoys. It makes me think that at the least Dumbledore hopes you will take this information to Lucius, if not to Voldemort himself. It would clearly mark you as Dark, of course, but...' He paused in thought. Severus said nothing, used to his cousin's mannerisms, and sipped at the whiskey in his glass.

Mycroft sat up straight, clearly having decided. 'I do believe Albus is trying to have an agent in place inside Voldemort's organisation. You. If you were, as he suspects, loyal, then you would go straight to Voldemort with this. If not, then either you are using it for your own ends like any good Slytherin, or you missed all the supposed prophecy's significance, and I think he has more respect for your intellect. I think we will keep this from Voldemort, because it is fairly obvious what would happen if he heard.'

'I agree. I have no intention of putting the Potters at risk,' Severus said, evenly. 

'They were at risk the minute they left school, Severus. I have every expectation that once the prophecy fails to reach Voldemort through you, another route will be found. There is Seer blood in the Trelawney line, very distant, but enough to cast a respectable light on it for those on the Light side of the war, and enough juice in it that the Dark cannot ignore it. It will get out. In what manner it becomes public,and the next steps Dumbledore takes, will very much reveal his agenda.'

'So I take it you will also be putting me in place at Hogwarts, to report back on Dumbledore. What of Voldemort?'

'The Goblin's have broken down the Mark, and we can disable the punitive elements fairly simply without distorting the image or overall feel of the magic. They expect you tomorrow. You should remain in place for now, but your primary role will be supporting Sirius and unobtrusively doctoring potions as best you can.'

Severus nodded.'I have developed a version of veritaserum that, in conjunction with another potion, enables the victim to reverse it's effects and say anything but the truthful answer to the question. If the reversal potion has not been taken beforehand, the veritaserum functions normally, however an ingredient substitution interacts with the reversal activator to protect agents in place.'

'You will be able to supply Sirius at Grimmauld Place?'

'Yes. I think it best that this not be something freely available, however. I dread to think of either Albus or Voldemort having this. The reversal potion has a long half life, so it is not suitable for frequent or low risk use. For high profile targets, however, it might protect vital information long enough.' He made eye contact with Mycroft. 'You should take it, for instance'.

Mycroft waved a hand dismissively. 'No-one knows how high up in the department I might be. There isn't a traditional hierarchy here, and Unspeakables are moved from role to role often, so there is no point to targeting one. Rookwood didn't even question his secondment to curse breaking, and is currently breaking all the unpleasantly hexed muggle items Arthur Weasley can find, so he has been able to take very little information of use to Voldemort.'

Severus agreed. 'He is politically out of favour, and Voldemort has him mostly used on raids at present, when he isn't an example to us all at meetings'

Mycroft almost smiled. 'How dreadful.'

Severus smiled. 'I find I can bear it quite well.'

'You should tell the Potters there is some danger. I will notify Sherrinford, and provide you all with port keys to a safe room here, but they will have to think carefully about their own planning and who they can trust. Hopefully they are not so naïve as to entrust their security to Dumbledore in light of this prophecy, but I would like to know if he approaches them. The next few weeks will be interesting times, Severus. Interesting times'.


	8. Family Matters

'I'm scared', Lily said, simply.

Next to her, James took her hand briefly and squeezed. Severus threw his best glower, and although the couple smiled a little at the reminder of the long buried feud, the standing joke between the three did not lessen the tension. He held his hands out across the kitchen table to both of them. 

'How can I help? I will tell you what I can, of course, but I am very little in his confidence. The need to 'keep my soul clean' for the more esoteric potions he requires prevents his using me in raids or rituals, else he needs to acquire a new potions expert. You can always stay here, of course, or at Prince Manor in an emergency.'

James wrinkled up his nose at the memory of the time they had gone to see Severus' inheritance. They had then only recently begun their tentative friendship, at Lily's insistence, and he had not been looking forward to spending the whole day with the man Siri had still occasionally called 'Snivellus' (though never in Lil's hearing.) He had been surprised to discover Severus's bone dry humour was actually funny, and once he understood that under the brooding exterior was a kind but wary soul, prone to snap decisions and worn-down pride but equally prone to giving the last knut in his pocket to a friend in need, it was hard to dislike him. 

The Manor had been awash with Dark magic and artifices, and it had taken all three of them several visits to purge the house of some seriously scary objects, eventually warding a fiercely controlled fiendfire at the rear of the grounds to destroy them beyond all possible use. There was still a doxy infestation that the elderly house-elves were fighting to control. 

'It might come to that', he said quietly. 'Albus has asked us to go under Fidelius to protect Harry, which is fair enough, I suppose. But Albus is being...more odd than usual, and, well, it's worrying us.' 

Lily nodded. 'He wants us to stay with Tuney, of all people.' 

Severus' eyes widened in shock. 'Your sister? That Tuney? After what happened at your parents' funeral?'

'I know, right?' Lily chuckled morosely. 'I think Tuney would be happy to never hear my name again. Apparently she told her mother-in-law that we had died in the car crash too, so turning up on the doorstep would be more than a tad uncomfortable for all of us. But Albus is insisting that blood wards would hold even in case the Fidelius collapsed'

'Which is total crap', interjected James, 'because you have to have the emotional ties to protect people; blood wards alone only protect property.'

Severus stood and paced around the small kitchen in his mother's home. 'It just doesn't make sense! What is the old fool thinking! You'd be safer at Hogwarts, or here for that matter, so what the hell is he planning?'

'He turned me down for the DADA position', Lily said glumly. 'Best marks in 30 years and three years as an auror, but he said it wasn't a safe job for a young mother, and he didn't want Harry toddling off and having an accident. Complete bollocks. Beaubaxtons needs a Magical Creatures Professor, which James could do with both hands behind his back, but there are no available family quarters, so that causes a problem.

'Since that damn prophecy you overheard leaked, no-one wants to touch us; they don't even know what it says, they just know it's about us and the Dark Twat, so of course they think we'll bring trouble down around their ears', grumbled James. The suspension from duty had hit him hard; hating to put his colleagues at risk, he'd been prepared to accept desk duty and had been shocked when it had been deemed 'too risky' to have either of them in Ministry buildings. 'Now with Albus being all squirrelly, and Minerva not doing anything without his say so, we're being manoeuvred into stuff I'm not comfortable with. We need you, Sev, as much as you can help us with.'

'We hope you'll agree to be Harry's guardian, Sev. In fact, we want you to blood adopt him, if you'll agree.'

Severus sat down in shock and gaped at his friends. 'Me? I'm a bloody death eater, Lils, are you insane?'

James rolled his eyes. 'You don't say. And there was me thinking that was a biker tat. Idiot.' He snorted back a laugh. 'It makes you ideal material, you twat. As a blood adopter, Magic itself constrains you, or anyone with whom you have blood links, from harming Harry. I think this is what Albus is basing his theory on, but the difference is you love Harry, whereas Petunia wishes us all non-existent, so from you the positive emotion would actually work to ground the wards.'

'It makes sense, Sev, if you'll agree. It will change his magical signature -make him part of all three of us in his blood and bones, so you'd have parental authority in the eyes of Magic itself. If anything happens to us, you can hide Harry from the Ministry, from Hogwarts -from both Albus and the V-man, and bring up Harry Prince instead. He'd be safe from everyone, and because of that damn tattoo, that would include the Death Eaters and their boss too, and I know you get that.' Lily's eyes searched Severus's shocked face, holding her breath.

Slowly Severus stood up, and walked round the table to James. 'Are you sure this is what you want, James? The prophecy is only words that might never come true -are you sure you want to share fatherhood with your old nemesis? It can't be undone -even muggle testing would show me as being Harry's father. People would assume I'd slept with Lily, despite my being gay - could you live happily if the parentage came out?'

James embraced Severus roughly. 'Of course I could, plonker, if it meant Harry was alive. Hell, I'll ask you to join in a family bond with us officially, you daft sod!'

Lily stood and came over to the two hugging men, embracing them with tears running down her cheeks. 'You'll do it then, Sev? Really? You'll protect Harry, make sure he is safe and has a parent no matter what?'

'Of course I will,' Severus growled his voice thick with emotion 'Floo the werewolf and tell him to get his sexy arse over here to officiate, and we'll get it done today. No son of ours is going anywhere near your damn sister while I live and breathe. We'll get my cousin to sign guardianship papers and get him muggle paperwork too, so if we all get AK'd he'll go to Sherrinford before your sister. He's a squib, so he can still send owls, get into Prince Manor and whatnot, and his other brother's involved in both our security forces, so he'll be safe in any circumstances.'

There was a moments silence before the three adults started laughing. 'Fuck, Sev, who knew you were that connected?' gasped James, as Lily ran to the fireplace to call Remus. 'Fuck. Thank fuck, Sev, thank you, thank you. We might just get through this after all.'

'Their mother is my mother's sister. Tobias couldn't stand the family; thought they were poncy snobs, so we only saw them when he was working but they helped where they could. She couldn't stand that Grandfather had cut us off, so we were their rebellious side coming out, you know? Between the three of them there's plenty of family for Harry before Petunia is even an option.'

Severus strode over to the fireplace where a sleepy-eyed Remus Lupin was coming through, and helped haul him out, before hurling powder into the fire. He spoke quickly to Gringotts and asked for a Family Law specialist to come with Fidelius intent, then flooed his older cousin and explained the situation, enduring the exuberant hug through the flames with practiced tolerance. Barely had that connection closed than the floo flared again and the goblin Griphook stepped through just as Lily came back into the kitchen with a slightly cranky baby with red tousled hair and emerald green eyes

The goblin opened up his many files on the table as Remus accepted a cup of strong coffee and Harry played with Severus's hair from his vantage position of Sev's lap. James and Lily leant against each other, emotionally drained, but happier than they had been since Sev first told them about the prophecy.

'I am to understand that all proceedings are to be held under the Fidelius Oath and knowledge limited to those persons named in the documents, hmm?' asked Griphook, peering over the top of his glasses. 'To clarify, under these terms, only myself, my direct superior and the Board know of any resulting agreements, and of course, these are held under Goblin Oath unless released. This is to enable Gringotts to fulfil banking and legal obligations on behalf of the participant, including confirming legalities to the Ministry and drawing up legal documentation. Documents held under the Fidelius are, by long held treaty with the Ministry, held on file at Gringotts so that they are not accessible by trickery, blackmail or coercion of the parties involved.'

'I will perform the Fidelius charm, as well as any oaths or bonding that may be required.' Remus handed his wand over to the goblin for assessment, and smiled at Severus as he spoke. 'I am not directly involved in the agreements, and have no conflicts of interest with their subject, on my oath as a wizard and the magic I possess.' The traditional white glow surrounded him briefly as the oath settled into his magical core, and the goblin nodded sharply, accepting the statement, and handed back his wand  
'Who comes before me under the seal of Fidelius?' Griphook asked, as Remus began to weave the incantation. 

'I, Lily Evans Potter, bringing my son, Harry James Potter, so do.'  
'I, James Charlus Potter, bringing my son, Harry James Potter, so do'  
'I, Severus Tobias Prince Snape, and representing the Squib Sherrinford Holmes and his magical brothers, Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes, with their permission, so do.'

'Do you swear that you will fulfil all obligations of the agreements made under this oath?'

'On my oath as a witch and the magic I possess' replied Lily.  
'On my oath as a wizard, and the magic I possess', confirmed James and Severus. The white light of the oath flared and settled in all three, and a golden ribbon of light flew from Remus' wand to enclose all there in a circle. A quill rose from the table as a parchment roll unwound, ready for dictation.

'We, James and Lily Potter, hereby entreat Severus Snape to blood adopt our son, Harry James Potter, and become his father in word, deed and truth, protecting him from harm though it cost him his life, parenting him with us when possible. We further pledge to bond with him in our hearts and minds as an equal partner in our life together.'

The radiant smile that shone from Severus' usually stern features was blinding, and James was uncomfortably aware that his body responded a little more than a happily married wizard's body should. Lily caught his eye and pointedly looked him up and down before giving him a very Snape-like smirk, and as Severus began his response James was blushing furiously.

'I, Severus Snape, hereby accept wholeheartedly the child Harry James Potter as my son, and pledge to blood-adopt him and become his father in word, deed and truth; protecting him from harm though it cost me my life, and bonding him to the Prince family, their magics and estate. I pledge to parent him with his other parents as a true family, and will joyfully bond my heart and mind to James and Lily Potter as equal partners in our lives together.'

The golden ribbon of light flashed to pure white light and wrapped itself around the three, weaving in and out of their bodies and binding them tightly together before sinking into their skin. All three rocked on their heels, but stayed standing, staring wide-eyed at each other, while Remus hugged himself in pure delight.

The goblin nodded gravely. 'Congratulations Messrs Potter-Snape, Mrs Potter Snape. Shall we proceed with the blood adoption?' He laid the necessary silver cup and chalice on the table, and Remus prudently stepped back a little until Griphook passed him a pair of fine leather gloves.

Formally, Remus stepped forward, and, touching his wand to the spot over Severus' heart, intoned solemnly the words of the adoption ritual. The golden light spilled from his wand once more, rapidly spreading over Snape's whole body till it glowed, before Lily stepped forward with Harry in her arms. The invocation was repeated, and the baby made a grab for the wand as it touched him, chasing the light with pudgy fingers as he squealed with delight. Quickly, while he was distracted, Remus nicked the underside of Harry's arm and in the cup deftly caught the blood that momentarily streamed from the cut before the golden light washed over it, leaving it unblemished. Severus held out his arm toward Remus, who repeated the movement, the knife so sharp that there was barely any pain before the magic sealed his skin.

Carefully placing the knife on the table, Remus held the cup aloft and the golden light swirled from the two wizards over and through it. Another diamond-bright flare of magic rose from the cup and covered all bar Remus and Griphook before disappearing as quickly as it flared. Severus was hit with an enormous feeling of love for the child who, till now, he'd been certainly fond of, maybe even biased toward, but nothing like this. His gasp as he felt the profound shift in his worldview was matched by Harry's other parents, as before their eyes his hair darkened and became less wild-looking, and though the clear green of his eyes remained the same, subtle sharpness was now apparent in the baby's cheekbones and jaw. While to those in the room he was still Harry, it was clear that his looks had altered enough that Snape's heritage could be seen. 

Snape helplessly reached out to his son and held him close, kissing the top of his head as Harry babbled happily to him. Tears rolled shamelessly down his cheeks, and Lily and James instinctively moved towards them to enfold them both in a hug that warmed them all, as Snape brokenly muttered 'thank you' over and over. Laughing through their own tears, Lily and James repeated it back to him as they scattered kisses over both Harry and Severus, as Remus looked on, grinning, and even Griphook's lips twitched in the goblin approximation of a smile.

\--------

The last of the paperwork was finally signed, and with a sigh of relief Severus sat back, Harry cradled on his lap as he had been for the last hour. The goblin insistence on seven copies of each document, each signed in multiple places in various shades of ink (depending on whether the clause was financial, emotional, physical or regarding property) was scrupulously observed in order to provide the most airtight contracts a determined goblin could devise, and scrolls confirming the legal identity of a Harry Evan James Potter-Snape Prince, his parentage, his vaults and heir-presumptiveness to two major Wizarding houses and the 8 Wizangamot seats they represented had been drawn up, with copies being given to each parent, held in trust for Harry and filed in the appropriate offices. 

Harry himself, despite all he now represented, yawned and sleepily snuggled further into his new father's arms. Griphook shook all the adults hands, and wished them all good fortune and gruesome death to their enemies before flooding away, and after a few soft words and congratulatory embraces, Remus too left the new family alone for the first time. Severus was only partly aware of making the correct responses, lost in the emotion of holding his son, surrounded by a loving family for the first time in his life.


	9. The Wheel Turns

The door closed behind the newest DADA professor, and Albus slipped off his affable eccentric persona, scowling fiercely at his bowl of doctored sherbet lemons. He was still angry at himself for misreading the Snape situation; he would have sworn on his magic that the boy had heard the 'prophecy' he'd Imperiused the Trelawney bint to declaim aloud, but there had been no indication that Voldemort's organisation were acting upon it. That transparent fool Malfoy had either become the Occlumency master he fancied himself to be in the last month, or, more likely, had no idea other than of the vague rumours he himself had planted.

He waved a hand, and the firewhisky decanter rose and floated over to the glass on his desk, pouring out a stiff measure. Snape had to have heard; his magical signature had tripped the ward on the stairs, so why had he not gone to Malfoy? He was going to have to delve into that one. However, it didn't matter as much now Pettigrew was primed.

Oh, Malfoy had practically laughed in his face, his thoughts had been so loud when Dumbledore had submitted his recommendation for the DADA post to the board. Really, the impassive Malfoy mien might work on lesser wizards, but his mental walls were soft and yielded easily to strong emotion, or strong Legilmens, for that matter. As if Pettigrew had slipped past his awareness! The little rat may as well have worn the Dark Mark on his face! He'd be worse than useless as a spy, but disinformation spreading was quite another matter, and the curse on the job would ensure Dumbledore didn't have to put up with him any more than a year.

Arranging to be called out of his office during the syllabus planning meeting was child's play. A lightly locked drawer was always irresistible to the little sneak thief, who was as much a kleptomaniac as Fletcher, though slightly more clever. Clever enough to have hooked up with friends who pretty much carried him through OWLS and NEWTS, at any rate. The prophecy transcript buried six sheets down had trilled it's tiny ward alert not even five minutes after Dumbledore had left to deal with the imaginary house elf issue, and he'd had another three minutes to scan and replace it before Dumbledore had, rather noisily, come back up the stairs. 

No, Voldemort would have the 'prophecy' by nightfall. Either child would do, though the Potters would personally be more satisfying, what with their fading loyalty to him. Oh, they were Light, no question, but outside the walls of Hogwarts and away from his regular influence, the mild Compulsion that all the Order members wore had evidently not been strong enough. The Evans chit had even come asking for a job after twice openly disagreeing with him at a meeting! 

Potter himself had refused Dumbledore's suggestion of Pettigrew as Secret Keeper. Damn the boy for not staying in better touch with his old friends during his Albanian mission for Voldemort, as now Dumbledore wasn't certain who held the wards. Probably the wolf boy, seeing as Black had shown his true colours and been rejected so thoroughly. At least some people were predictable. Even Pettigrew would pick the wolf out for Voldemort, however, so if it were him the secret would come out - the veritaserum-laced candies had always been extremely effective on Mr Lupin, and if questioned that way the day of or after his Change his memory was always so fogged that he wouldn't remember anything about their little chats. Idly, Dumbledore wondered if Pettigrew would consider using the serum on the Wolf, or just hand him over for torture. Either would work.

Snape, though, would need careful monitoring. Perhaps, in not revealing the prophecy, he was trying to lull Albus himself into trusting him. Maybe he was going to try playing both sides? Mentally Albus snorted. Unless he knew exactly where loyalties lay, there was no use in feeding information through dead-end channels. Galling as it was, he'd have to wait until Snape tipped his hand. Truly neutral people were rare, particularly in the Wizarding world of extremes he'd worked hard to subtly develop, though those who hid their head in the sand and tried not to notice the War were extremely common. Snape would give himself away by the end of the first term, Albus had no doubt, and then he would know how best to use him.

\----------

Narcissa Malfoy didn't pace. Blacks never paced. She hadn't thought they ran around after megalomaniacs either, but Bella was always slightly peculiar. Malfoys didn't pace either, undoubtedly, but a Black wouldn't waste time pacing and wringing their hands; they would spend the time planning, instead. When they weren't planning to marry their daughters off to the highest bidder, they planned to make the best of every situation, to turn it to their advantage.

This situation was not to her advantage.

There were definite gaps in her memory, gaps that frightened her. She had a good mind, had excelled at school, had entertained daydreams of continuing her education, even, and gaps in a mind like hers meant only one thing.

She was being Obliviated. Frequently. By someone who didn't care enough to be subtle, but just scooped out her memories -and did what with them? How many times had she had this thought process before? Had she tried to escape before? She had no illusions about the end result needing to be just that. Lucius had no regard for her personally, and none for Draco, for all he declaimed about 'His Son And Heir'. They existed purely as props for him; the beautiful and dutiful wife, the properly descended son, both existing to showcase Lucius in the most attractive light. And when he tired of the Adoring Husband And Father pose, she was beginning to suspect he'd adopt the Heartbroken Widower character.

Well, Blacks were not intended to be supporting characters in someone else's play. Getting out would be difficult and dangerous, because he would never forgive her for breaking his façade, or removing his heir. Merilee might help, but Lucius would go to the McKinnons straight away, and her husband had never been very good at resisting Lucius. The Parkinson's were holding themselves firmly neutral, at least until there was a clear winner to back, and Marigold would be all ill-concealed but well bred horror if she turned up on the Floo hearth. She had carefully been distanced from all of her school friends, she realised with dawning dread. She would have to take a risk and approach Severus; throw herself on his mercy as Draco's godfather, see if he could appeal to Dumbledore to hide her. It would endanger him, for which she was sorry, but she would endanger every one she knew to protect her boy. She could only hope she hadn't tried to do this before.

\--------------------

 

Mycroft sat down behind his desk. 'Oh, do stop pacing, Severus, it's not at all conducive to reason.'

Snape slumped into the nearest armchair, and put his head in his hands.

'Neither is giving into despair, Cousin', Mycroft mildly pointed out. 'The Potters and Longbottoms are informed, and behind Fidelius for now, and we are finalising escape routes for them. They will be out of England by the end of next week. The rumours surrounding the prophecy have been swirling all summer; frankly I'm amazed Dumbledore left it this long before slipping the actual prophecy to Voldemort. You have clearly been confusing him.'

'Pettigrew is manifestly not Dumbledore's man, though', Severus fretted. 'His mind is so weak the Dark Lord would have had him dead at his feet if he attempted to spy. I am worried that he knows so much about the other Marauders though. Sirius is spitting fire, and it's only his natural shields, and worry for his brother and Remus, that is keeping that from exposing himself.'

'How is Regulus doing?' enquired Mycroft politely.

'Out of danger, thank Merlin, though it was close. By the time we'd traced his signature it was nearly too late for the antidote to take effect. He should be able to move from Prince Manor with Sherrinford tomorrow . Unless Voldemort triggers the inferi himself, the golem should fool him if he returns to the grotto and sees it under the water.

'And Remus?'

'As long as he stays at the Manor out of sight, he'll be fine. The full moon will be difficult, as Sirius has been sent to Portugal on a mission, and the wolf gets restless in his absence, especially out of his territory.'

'Will he consent to leave with the Potters?'

Severus raked his hand through his hair. 'I don't know. The distance from his territory will weaken him, unless I can find a way around that. So far he's saying yes, but realistically he may not be able to cope long term away from the Forbidden Forest.'

Mycroft nodded. 'Sherrinford is working as fast as he can with our connections. We'll need you in place until at least the end of the school year, I'm afraid, but then Sirius will have to work alone. Not ideal, with Regulus out as well, but you will be more useful in the new situation, and Minerva can take over the school duty by then. The Order are currently planning a strike against Rosier Place on the 31st, so expect to be summoned for medic duty that evening.'

'Thanks for the warning. I'm sure Poppy must be running low on the usual potions after Quidditch trials and practice, so it won't look odd if I start producing batches tonight'

Mycroft stood. 'Well, reassure the Potters that they'll be moved on the 1st or 2nd at the latest. I've spoken to the Longbottoms tonight, and they will be moved out a day or so after. I'll contact the Manor and let Regulus know Sherrinford's elf will collect him tomorrow.' He moved round the desk and clasped Severus' arm. 'Do try and get some rest, Severus. Worrying won't help, and the strain of occluding the added emotional load will exhaust you. We just have to get everyone through the week, and you'll know first if any movement is made and be able to warn us. Go back, lose yourself in Potions for the rest of the night, and we'll Floo tomorrow'.

\-------

Pettigrew thrashed, screaming, on the floor at the foot of Voldemort's throne. Dispassionately, Voldemort watched the man's agony, while Bellatrix, arms draped around the Dark Lord's neck, wriggled excitedly in his lap. Lucius held the spell for another four heartbeats, then let it drop. The screams subsided, and Pettigrew lay whimpering, tears streaming down his face, clearly too exhausted and wracked with pain to move. Bellatrix pouted, and nuzzled up against the Dark Lord, whispering in his ear. He laughed. "Now now, my dear. We don't want to break our ratty friend's mind permanently, do we?"

"But it would be fun", she muttered. Lucius snickered. Voldemort tapped her chin with a long finger. "You can have fun another day, Bella dear. We just need to be absolutely certain that dear Peter hasn't forgotten anything, and that he's telling the truth."

"Please" gasped Peter from the floor. "Look at the memory, take it out, you'll see it's all true!"

"Ssh now" soothed Voldemort." We will, of course we will. But I just like to be certain it isn't a conjured memory, and Lucius does so like to get the chance to practice his gifts. You wouldn't want to deprive him of the opportunity, would you? Bella, dear one, help Lucius out, will you?"

He nodded regally to Lucius, and Lucius gently murmured "Legilimens" as he captured Pettigrew's gaze. Bellatrix gleefully cast the Cruciatus again, and Peter screamed once more.

\------

James and Lily stood wrapped in each other's arms in the little cottage garden, listening to the soft music coming through the kitchen window. 

"It's hard to believe Harry won't grow up here," sighed Lily, gazing at the little sandpit. James held her a little more tightly for a moment. "We wouldn't have lived here forever, Lils. It'd be too small for us in a couple of years anyway. Harry won't want little brothers and sisters tripping over his things all the time."

Lily smiled at the thought. 'He'll be a good big brother, won't he? If they take after him, you might get your Potter Quidditch team after all. They could take on Molly's brood! Her youngest is the same age, you know. It would have been nice if they could grow up together..." Her voice trailed off, and James tapped her chin fondly. "Hey there, Miss Pessimist! It's not permanent exile, you know! It might only be a few months. Then we'll be back, and we can move into the Estate, fill it up with Harry and Lily clones, and when it's all too much we'll let Severus and Remus entertain the kids and we'll slip off back here for dirty weekends"

"Oh, well, that sounds a nice idea. Dirty weekends, eh? I'm not sure I remember what that involves..."

James laughed out loud. "Oh ye of lousy memory, let me remind you", he purred. Giggling like school children, they slipped back into the house.


	10. Shattered

The Halloween Feast was drawing to a close, thank Merlin. Minerva, Poppy and Hagrid had the duty this evening, and no doubt Argus would be on the prowl, desperate to find some brainless child out of commons after curfew.

Poppy had been extremely pleased with the restocking of the infirmary's supplies that afternoon, and had surprised him with a large bar of Honeydukes Extra Smooth by his plate this evening. The evening's Reserves Quidditch trials had ended with three broken bones, and quite a few second and third years were sporting colourful bruises that they seemed inordinately pleased about, judging by the way they seemed to be trying to recreate the accidents with cutlery and bread rolls. There was an unwritten staff policy that points were not handed out at such feasts, but no one had forbidden glares, and the Slytherins in particular were under no illusions at this stage of the term that despite the older years remembering him as a Housemate, behaviour unbefitting of a Slytherin would result in points lost, detentions earned and etiquette books memorised. 

Dumbledore, Bones and Flitwick were out, presumably with the rest of the Order, however much was left of it without the Potters and Longbottoms joining in. Pettigrew had cancelled his afternoon classes and begged a headache potion off Snape, and was probably unconscious, given that Snape had given him the strongest one possible just to avoid seeing his little beady eyes at the Feast. He liked the adult even less than he had the teenager, and given the amount of stress he'd caused recently, the less of him he saw, the better. Sirius was going to tear his throat out for him one of these days, and while their Lord was amused by their fighting, he wouldn't tolerate it turning into a blood feud. Hopefully Sirius would be safe tonight.

Merlin, the sooner this was finished the better. There were some greedy sods still eating their third dessert, and the noise level was becoming intolerable -

The reason for the increase in sound became evident as a silver patronus streaked through the room. A silver wolf headed straight for Severus, who paled as he realised whose it was. Minerva gestured swiftly for silence.The jaws opened, and a broken voice wheezed out 'Sev.... Need you...please'

Pandemonium broke out, and Severus whirled round to meet Minerva's shocked gaze. 'Lupin?' she gasped. He nodded. 'Go, go quickly!' she ordered, and stooping to grab the bag by his chair, Severus reached out to the Patronus to read the image of the place of sending. Shit, the Forbidden Forest! He ran straight for the Great Hall, to be stopped briefly by the Slytherin quidditch captain, who wordlessly handed him her broom. He thanked her automatically even as he threw himself on it and Minerva spelled open the Hall and Great Door to speed his way.

Flying into the Forest at night, and on the full moon at that, was one of the most dangerous things one could do, and he realised as he passed the tree line that he hadn't shared where he was going with Minerva. Just outside the shimmering wards he saw a dying glow of silver light and hurtled towards it, praying he wouldn't be too late. He should have known his territory would call too strongly to him without a pack mate present...

He leapt off the broom before it had even stopped and ran, cursing as he saw the black blood in the moonlight and the silver chains lying across the broken body of the werewolf. He threw a vanishing spell at them, and the faint groan of slight relief from torment was the first inkling that Remus was even still alive. Severus slid to his knees, skidding across the last foot of blood soaked forest floor, and threw up a floating Lumos in order to see the main damage. 

Clearly the assailant had used multiple cutting curses, but whether thrown at the wolf or at the man he had no idea. Feverishly he worked to stop the bleeding on the visible cuts, casting spell after spell wandlessly as he rummaged through the potions in the medikit he had expected to be using on Death Eaters tonight. He spelled the strongest blood replenisher straight into Remus' stomach, with dreamless sleep following straight after to prevent the wolf from moving in reaction to the beginning of the healing process and biting or scratching him.

He muttered a quick diagnostic scan and angrily cursed to himself at how low Remus' magical core was. Clearly he had been tortured before shifting, as the shift and the patronus had virtually drained him. He didn't have time to rest and regain his natural levels -if he wasn't to die from the shift back, let alone his body trying to heal, then he needed his core replenishing externally. There was no other option. Grimly Severus reached out and placed both hands over Remus' core and willed his own magic into the Were's body, pulling on his own core and dumping it straight into the wolf's, praying that the sudden input didn't send the overtaxed body into shock.

After he had given as much as he safely could, and still have enough energy to Apparate them both, he placed Remus under a stasis spell, rose, and scanned the clearing. He fairly quickly found the silver knife, a standard Potions one sold at any apocathery, but could not risk the magic needed to run a tracing spell on it, so looked for something he could transfigure into a bag. Which was when he saw the paisley scarf hooked onto a bramble bush. 

The scarf Pettigrew had been wearing in the dungeon earlier.

Apparition would have to wait. He threw the last of his magic into his patronus to Mycroft, gasping 'Get the Potters. Lupin tortured', before collapsing next to the battered body of the wolf. All he could do now was wait, and try to keep them both alive until rescued.

\------

Quiet clinks of cutlery were the only noises in the dining room of the Trewissick house, neither Sherrinford or Mycroft feeling the need to chat idly while eating. The main business of the day was completed: Regulus was on the first leg of his secretive journey out of the country, and the route had been secured for the Potters' journey for two days time. The Longbottoms' had hit an unexpected snag; Turkey was reluctant to issue international port keys again so soon after Regulus' journey, and Morocco was of course being geared up for the Potters' transit. It looked like they were going to have to use the Iceland /Greenland/Canada route, which was the least desired option due to the additional time it took. Unfortunately the other options would involve intergovernmental favours being given, rather than called in, which would necessitate the Minister's office giving the authorisation. The last thing Mycroft wanted was for there to be such a paper trail.

No sooner had he thought that, than the Floo flared into life. A panicked voice called out 'Senior Holmes, come through quickly; the Minister's home has been hit.'

Both men stood quickly. 'Get back home as quickly as you can, and notify the others. I'll contact you as soon as I can.' With that, Mycroft quickly stepped through the Floo into his office and strode to the briefing room. The first face he saw was Sirius Black, standing over maps with Three, his usual strike team. Four and Seven were also there, Five and Six were stood down, and One and Two... Shit. 

'Ok, Alpha's report', he ordered.

Black, the senior Alpha Unspeakable in the room, stepped forward. 'Sir, we had a patronus from Beta One, saying that they had been led into an ambush while escorting the Minister home. By the time we apparated to the co-ordinates, the Minister, Beta One and the two other Unspeakables were dead, their throats torn out and the Dark Mark in the air. Alpha One was missing. I left Beta Three in charge and took Tweedle with me to the McKinnon residence. The Dark Mark was above the building. All of Two's members were down, killing curse used on all four as well as on Mrs McKinnon, Marlene McKinnon, the two boys and three house elves. The Minister's study had been ransacked, and two portraits had an acid curse thrown at them, destroying the image. The curses fired at the children had Alpha One's magical signature, those on the two women are not listed as Ministry registered. The press were in attendance at the house upon departure; I briefed the responding Auror leader who took control of the scene, and they are managing the press.'

Alpha Seven stepped forward. 'Eight reports that the Order has attacked Rosier Place to retrieve the Prewett brothers. Both men were found dead on site. Yaxley, Nott, Dolohov, Karkaroff and Malfoy were taken into custody at the scene by the accompanying Aurors. Rosier and Wilkes were killed in the fight, as was Benjy Fenwick, an Order member; two Aurors hospitalised. Eight will remain on site to prevent the Order from removing artifacts, and Aurors will be escorting them to the Ministry for debriefing and wand examination shortly.'

Mycroft nodded sharply. 'Well, we all know how we feel about amateur involvement. I am placing a Stun On Sight order on Rookwood and Greyback, which is to be sent to the Head Auror immediately. I want eyes on the LeStranges, Dolohov, Pettigrew and Travers. I want all identified Order Members and all suspected Death Eaters not currently in Auror custody under observation. All Order members participating in tonight's action, I don't care if it's Dumbledore himself or the Auror members, are to be held at the Ministry until...' He broke off as a silver doe streaked through the ceiling down towards him. In the silence, Severus' gasped pleas were painfully loud, and Sirius looked in terror towards him. 

'Three, you're with me. Seven, apparate to those coordinates and get Severus Snape and the werewolf to safe house Arthur. Ward the scene, and get St Mungo's to send Bardwell out for the wolf. I don't care who else got bitten by Greyback's pack, Lupin is top priority.' The five men stepped into the Floo, and Sirius called out in a voice that barely wavered 'Potter Residence, Godric's Hollow, as the green flames soared to send them through.

The body of James Potter lay by the open front door as they stepped out of the Floo and fanned out. Sirius reached out and wordlessly took the wand out of the still warm hand of his best friend and holstered it, before motioning to Mycroft to follow him up the stairs. They could hear Harry crying, and over that a male voice muttering something, but they could not make out the words. As they crept soundlessly up the small staircase the voice cried out 'Avada Kedavra!', and there was a huge explosion.

'No! roared Sirius, and the grief-struck Black charged up the rest of the stairs and into the nursery. When Mycroft entered the room a mere second later, Black was holding a squalling Harry in his arms and weeping with the toddler. Lily Potter lay dead on the floor, alone, next to two wands. The wall and ceiling behind Harry's cot were completely destroyed, rubble littering the little room. 

Of the attacker there was no sign.

\-------

In the main guest room of the Trewissick house, Severus Snape lay in one of the quickly transfigured twin beds, while Remus, in wolf form, was on the other, both spelled into comas as the only way they had of dealing with their pain levels. Sirius Black lay in animagus form between the beds, in front of the cot he'd personally conjured for Harry; refusing anyone but the Healers to come near what was left of his pack, and growling viciously at anyone else near the door.

Mycroft had returned to the Ministry to coordinate activities and review evidence. Tests on what Ollivander confirmed was Voldemort's wand revealed the last three curses it had performed were the Killing Curse. Two of those, obviously, were accounted for, and the healer who had briefly checked over Harry was adamant that the curse wound on his forehead contained spell residue from the curse having hit him. 

As to where Voldemort himself was, no one could tell. The wards had fallen at several suspect locations at around the same time as he had disappeared, which had the Deputy Minister adamant that he must be dead, but to the Department of Mysteries, no suspect was dead until their body had been reduced to ashes in front of a credible witness. And quite apart from their only witness being fifteen months old, there were no ashes at the scene. More tellingly, the Goblins would say nothing other than that the Riddle/Voldemort vault had been sealed according to prior instruction. 

The retrieved memory was being studied for details by Four, while Five went over the partially destroyed building. Obliviators and Aurors worked the neighbourhood while the remainder of Three warded the building from muggle eyes. Aurors were responding to bystander reports and panicked family members, picking up unconscious yet screaming Death Eaters all over the country as their Marks appeared to punish them for the loss of their leader. Satisfyingly, one of the first brought in was Rookwood. He had been placed in solitary, and Mycroft was looking forward immensely to questioning him.

Pettigrew was gone. Even a screaming rat would garner no notice in the wilderness, and Mycroft was quite convinced that he was already out of the country in some safe house. While he was hopeful the LeStranges would be brought in while the curse was active, the wards were still impassable around the estate. At Malfoy Manor, Lady Malfoy herself had courteously spoken with the Auror sent to inform her of her husband's being held in custody, and while he was screaming his throat raw she was calm and composed. 

The press had been having a field day since the early evening attack on the McKinnons and the subsequent night of chaos. New editions were being printed near hourly, and the news of the Potters' deaths, having missed the last edition, would certainly be in the next. People were streaming into the Ministry, unable to sleep, wanting to be on the scene for latest developments. Even Frank and Alice Longbottom had stopped by before heading to their desks, although hopefully they wouldn't be so foolish as to go out on patrol. People with clearance had brought their families into the offices; more had filled the Ministry cafeteria while still more stood in vigil in Diagon Alley, where the newspapers were being handed out hand over fist. It was perfect conditions, in fact, for Voldemort and his remaining minions to turn up and cause mass destruction, and trying to contain the chaos was exhausting. 

The Order had had to be released, of course. Cell space was at a premium, with every available holding cell and interview room being pressed into service. A group of vigilantes regarded as heroes by the wider public were just taking up valuable space and Auror time, and while they would all certainly be receiving visits from the Ministry to rebuke them for their actions, there was no point in trying to make a case of it now. Mycroft had had numerous reports that Dumbledore was holding court in the Atrium, calling for calm but basking in the praise of those who assumed he had played a huge part in bringing down the Death Eaters. He didn't really care; deflecting attention away from the Department was always a priority, and if Dumbledore and his Order wanted medals and editorials dripping with praise then Mycroft would personally ensure medals and editorials were handed out. 

Millicent Bagnold had been advised of her promotion to the Ministry and was being briefed by Mycroft's superior. Plans for the McKinnons' funeral were being drawn up. Mycroft himself had just Flooed his counterparts in each of the Magical Commonwealth countries and notified the Muggle Prime Minister's office. Bernard would liaise with his own counterpart there to arrange for the PM's attendance at the funeral, should he want to attend; some did, some didn't. The Queen's owl had already been received; her Liaison Officer had been in situ a long time and was on the ball. It would, of course, be too risky for her to attend the funeral with Death Eaters potentially still at large, but her message of sympathy would be printed in all the Wizarding press along with lurid coverage of tonight's events.

His private secretary bustled in with more reports from people who were probably quite unaware that his Department saw them. Behind him, thank Merlin, the clever man was floating cups of tea and a plate of the good biscuits. 

The door was spelled firmly shut behind him.


	11. Rebuilding

Just before dawn, they entered the room.

Bardwell and her two assistants took up their agreed positions around Remus' bed, while Sirius shimmered back to his usual form. Wordlessly picking up Harry, he took the toddler downstairs, cradled in his arms as if he would never let go. Turnwise, the elf on duty, handed him a warmed bottle of milk and ushered him into a deep armchair, spelling a blanket around them. He continued setting the silencing charms around the room as instructed,while the grieving man sat, still unnaturally calm from the extra strong draught last night. He would stay with the man and help where he could, understanding that just being present, but not intruding, held its own healing magic in times of bereavement.

Upstairs, the nurse slipped into the space next to Severus' bed, and checked his vitals. They needed to keep him under until the Mind Healer arrived, and it was a delicately balanced spell. Given that there would be chaos and emotional upheaval in the room in the coming minutes, it was crucial that his subconscious be shielded until it could protect himself, and he was regarded as one of the best. Whoever this young man was, he was obviously important. He nodded to Bardwell to let her know his charge was protected.

They didn't have long to wait.

As the first light of the new day became visible over Kemare Head, the wolf began to twist its body through the unnatural shapes between the wolf and the human form. Bones that were already shattered from multiple Bombardus curses broke again as his body remade itself, the spelled closed skin and organs below similarly twisting. What was usually agony became fresh torture, and Bardwell fought to keep the Were's mind from registering the pain even as her junior doctors rushed to apply the potions they had not been able to give the wolf due to his radically different physiology.

Hours passed. Different healers bearing different potions were summoned, each too focused on the task of saving the man to pass on information from the world outside. As the last fishing boats returned the tension in the room finally lessened, and Bardwell simply spelled her patient to a light healing sleep from which he would wake naturally in a few hours. Sending her juniors back to St Mungo's to care for the other casualties of the full moon, she walked to the study opposite, and was beckoned in.

'You'll have to report to me, I'm afraid, as Unspeakable Holmes has not returned yet. How is Mr Lupin?' The man who was clearly related to the Unspeakable waved her into an extremely comfortable chair, and poured them both a cup of tea from the service on the little table at her side. He noticed her very faint look of surprise and laughed as he returned to his own chair. 'Total Squib, my dear. None of this fancy stick waving for me; if I want a cuppa I have to bally well pour it myself, at least, if Biddle isn't around. Which he isn't. Too much going on today for me to hog my elf's attention, though I dare say he'd try to fit me in. But relaxing banter aside', and indeed, his face was utterly serious, 'what is going on with those two gentleman in there, and the man barely holding it together in my kitchen, hmm?'

Bardwell cleared her thoughts. Squib or not, the man was obviously in a position of authority here, and the sooner he was briefed, the sooner she could take a few hours to attend to other patients.

'Mr Lupin was tortured for an extended period before the shift, though not in wolf form. The injuries we saw on the wolf were mostly caused by those caused to the man by severe and sustained spell damage, combined with shifting at a close to negligible level of magical power and the silver chains, which were again conjured around the man before the shift. Sir, werewolves are hard to kill, bar that would kill anything, like decapitation. They come back and heal from what would kill a man, or for that matter, a wolf, due to their deep magical core and accelerated healing. Whoever did this to Mr Lupin would have succeeded in killing him if help had not come exactly when it did.'

'You think there was more than retrieving information intended?'

'Undoubtedly. There were numerous cutting hexes, and it's my belief that the perpetrator intended to break every single bone in Mr Lupin's body bar the skull, and that spared only to allow the multiple mind rapes he endured. Sadly, I have no doubt that the information sought was successfully acquired; Mr Lupin's mind was awash with guilt and sorrow. I suspect this was why Mr Holmes requested me in particular, as I specialised in Mind Healing before becoming intrigued by Were psychology and physiology.'

She paused for a moment, clearly drained by the intensive work needed to heal Remus. She looked up, and held Sherrinford's gaze. 'I would like to ask for ten minutes alone with the perpetrator once he is apprehended, because I am so...enraged at what was done to this man. Not even that scum Greyback deserves this.'

Wordlessly Sherrinford passed her a biscuit to allow her to take a moment.

'There were at least four separate bouts with Cruciatus, although at weaker curse levels than I've seen from other Death Eater attacks. The nerve damage should be almost completely reversed, thanks to that, although it would have been excruciating to endure. The slicing hexes nicked his liver and left lung, but mostly were not deep enough to cause organ damage. He'll need further rebuilding potions over the next three days for the tendons and muscles in his legs from where he was hamstrung, but he should be encouraged to walk around 10 metres distance today, around this floor tomorrow and downstairs the day after.'

'I'm sure we can manage the potions regimen and any physical therapy. What should we expect, mentally?'

'I've done what I can to assuage the guilt coming from his subconscious, as no one should have to carry that burden after torture. The memory of the attack is in here', and she handed over a silver flask. 'I don't know if you know how this works, but in short, 'memory retrieval ' is an imprecise term. What is left behind is a residual shade of itself, with much of the emotion removed; a flattened form of memory akin to reading an account of it in a book. The knowledge of the retrieved memory remains, but we have found the brain is better able to heal if most of the overpowering emotions are absent. It is, in theory, possible to return the memory in full, but we do advise against that. 

She thankfully took a sip of tea, and continued: 'This way the victim will not have to deal with flash back memories bleeding through into the rest of their lives, but retains perspective of the incident, as well as the knowledge that a crime was committed on them against their will. While Mr Lupin will, and should, feel sorrow at the consequences of this crime, it will not be confused with personal responsibility.'

'I will pass that on to Mr Holmes, and I am certain his friends will be grateful for that knowledge,' Sherrinford murmured. Dr Bardwell snorted. 'If they aren't, then frankly they should go get fucked. That man in there is a hero - in fact, both men are, for all that the other one has the damn Mark on his arm. And yes, I checked. I always check, these days. The Marked one almost turned himself into a squib saving Lupin. I have never seen such a huge donation of magical energy, and it undoubtedly kept him alive last night. It has also, however, formed a nascent soul bond between the two, which, well, let's just say I hope they like each other already, because on a personal level things just got a lot more involved.'

She took a si of tea, and collected her thoughts. 'The man downstairs has no physical or mental damage, but is grieving close friends. The child is safe for now, but once these two are healed I want to have a close look at him with some colleagues. I'll submit their names later. Now, I'm going to check on my other patients, and I will send another Healer to cover for me in the meantime, but I will be back by dusk.'

Sherrinford stood and shook her hand, thanking her warmly and politely offering her the Floo from that room. Walking past the room where the two men slept, he nodded at the nurse sitting with Severus, before making his way down the cool stairway to the kitchen, where his other guests needed him.

Sirius raised his head, and Sherrinford could clearly see he'd been weeping. Nothing wrong with that; his brothers might not be big on the whole emotions thing, but he sometimes joked he made up for them both. The man needed a bloody big hug, is what he did, but whether he thought he did was another thingamajig, so either tea or whiskey would have to do. As ever, Turnwise seemed to read his bloody mind, because down to the table floated a bottle of Old Ogden's finest and two of the large glasses. Marvellous people, elves.

'Mr Black, I'm Sherrinford, Mycroft's brother, and I don't do surnames. What I can do is tell you that Remus is out of danger; needs a couple of days of potions and whatnot, but the bastard who tried to kill him failed miserably. However, the same bastard put himself on the shitlist of myself, you, the chap lying next to him, my brother, and frankly scarier than all combined, the doctor who put him back together. They are keeping Severus under until she comes back, because apparently she needs Remus for that, and I am not questioning her about anything, ever.'

Numbly, Sirius said his thanks. Harry began to stir in his arms, the mild sleeping draught the good doctor had instructed be slipped into his milk clearly wearing off.

'Right, Sirius, this is what we are going to do. In a minute, we're going to give that young fella something to eat, for which time I know you are going to hold it together. I've seen your file, and I know you're a soldier; and right now he needs your absolute focus. After that, though, he will need distracting and playtime, and those are two activities that you are not going to be able to participate in today. Turnwise is therefore going to turn the living room into a toddlers' paradise, and unless I'm much mistaken is looking forward greatly to an afternoon slacking off and playing with building blocks and whatnot. He is largely responsible for the man you see today, so you are going to trust him to keep Harry safe and amused.'

Sirius just nodded. Having the decision made for him was a relief, frankly. Turnwise deftly picked up Harry, who had been solemnly watching him since he woke, and slipped him into a high chair. A plate of cheese, star shaped crackers and little jam toasties shaped like crescent moons appeared in front of him, and Harry crowed with delight. Watching him eat was a joy all it's own, Sherrinford decided, particularly as he didn't have to clean the sticky tyke afterwards, and even Sirius managed to smile when Harry managed to levitate the spoon full of yoghurt served next straight into his ear. A click of elf fingers, and a contented and, thankfully, clean toddler was lifted up by his Uncle and taken through to what was possibly Santa's workshop, judging by Harry's expression. He barely noticed the two men slipping back out of the room.

Sirius sat back in his chair with, Sherrinford thought, just a touch more life to him than before. He looked quizzically at Sherrinford, who acted as if the question had been spoken out loud:

'Now? Now the wake begins, my friend. We will sit and toast your friends, you shall tell me their story, we shall weep and we shall honour their memory. To James and Lily Potter, and may their names be forever loved.'


	12. Connections

At dusk, Remus awoke.

A nursing aide walked downstairs, carrying two sobriety and two hangover potions on a tray before her. The two gentlemen, considerably the worse for drink, endured the sobriety ones nobly before steeling themselves and knocking back the ruby red taste of death and donuts, as the larger one described it. It was, probably entirely deliberately, the worst tasting potion that most people encountered. There weren't many Wizarding alcoholics, that was for sure, but whether that was through fear of losing control of one's magic, or fear of having to take one of those potions, was the matter of much debate.

At any rate, once sober the two men headed up the stairs, one to speak to the medical team and alert Mycroft, and one to speak to the man he held closer to his heart than any person living.

Sirius sat on the bed, ignoring the chair. He took Remus' hand and kissed it. 'Oh Moony, thank god. I was so scared for you. How are you feeling?'

'In a bit, Siri. Are they?'

He nodded. 'Harry is downstairs. We got there maybe a minute too late. It was quick, Moony, incredibly quick. He got James at the front door; I'm not even sure James knew what happened. Lily was upstairs by Harry's cot, like she wouldn't budge from the spot. Both AK'd. It wouldn't even have hurt.'

Remus bowed his head, lost in grief. Sirius wrapped his arms around the shaking body.

'Moony, love, you didn't kill them. You did nothing wrong. They would have been so fucking proud of the way you fought for them, just like I am. Just like Harry will be. What you endured - hell, Moony, I couldn't have lasted that long if it had been me.'

He just held Remus. Rocking him lightly. Murmuring reassurance, making him know down to his bones that no one found him responsible; that Sirius didn't blame him. That between them, Severus and Remus had rescued Harry. Harry, whose laughter they could now hear from downstairs.

Remus lifted his head eventually and stared into Sirius' eyes. 'I'm not done crying, and neither are you, Padfoot, for all you are being strong. But Severus is going to wake up soon, and he is going to need both me and Harry up here, as quickly as you can make it happen. Can you move me into his bed, first?' 

Sirius looked completely stunned, so much so that he just did as he was asked without making a fuss. Immediately Remus put his arms around Severus, as Sirius left the room to go and get Harry. Remus put his mouth next to Severus ear, and whispered 'Not just yet, love. I'm here, sleep.' The flickering eyelids stilled, and Remus placed a delicate kiss on the black hair.

Toddler babble, soft in the hushed hallway, announced their return, and behind them came a woman Remus vaguely recognised from visits to St Mungo's. Siri sat with Harry on the end of the bed, and immediately Harry squirmed out of Sirius' lap and crawled up the bed, clearly delighted to see Severus. He wriggled under the covers, and, unknowingly mimicking Remus, kissed Severus' hair. 'Papa seepin', he announced, 'Hawwy seepin too'. He closed his eyes, and amazingly enough, was asleep in seconds.

'That's a good elf they have here', commented the Healer. 'That's saved us some trouble. I can spell him to sleep until we're done, here, but he needs to be here for Mr Snape. Hello Mr Lupin, I'm Healer Bardwell, and words can't begin to describe how glad I am to see you with us. It was touch and go for a while there, but this man saved your life.

Remus nodded. 'I remember. His voice in my head is the last thing I remember before waking. Thank you for all you did.'

Bardwell nodded briskly. 'I'm sure you've realised by now there's something different about you. In order to keep you alive, Mr Snape here had to pour pretty much all of his magical core into you. Without that, you didn't have enough magic of your own to sustain the healing ability of your own body, much less survive the shift back. To give you an idea, your own magic is currently at 7%. Everything else is him.'

Remus considered this briefly. 'Ok, that makes sense.'

Bardwell looked at him levelly. 'That kind of magical transfer has repercussions. Currently, the biggest one for both of you is that you have developed a nascent soul bond. Any further exchange of magic will only firm that bond. However, last night, as you were both being rescued, the Potters, both of whom were bonded to Mr Snape, were murdered. The bonds severed in the most brutal way possible, and have profoundly damaged Mr Snape's psyche. To be blunt, without intervention, intervention from you, I'm afraid, he will die. The induced coma, the immature soul bond and the parent bond with Harry here, are all that are anchoring him to his body at present.'

Remus and Sirius stared at her, aghast. Remus regained speech first. 'What does he need from me?' he asked simply.

Sirius looked at him sadly. 'It's the bond, Moony. He'll need you to complete the bond.'

Bardwell agreed. 'At the basic level, yes. You would need to return his magic, as much as possible, but we can talk through possibilities about that in a moment. You've been a patient of mine before now, so you will understand my next question. Are there still two?'

Remus smiled, slightly, for the first time. 'Yes. Here. That makes a difference? It isn't known.'

There was a definite reduction of tension in Bardwell's carriage. 'A huge difference, I'm pleased to say, and you'll need to open up, if you can.'

Sirius just looked completely confused. 'Ok. I'm sorry to be the dumb doggy in the room, but what the fuck?'

Remus looked at him, his whole heart in his eyes. His voice shook slightly. 'The timing is really crappy, but what the hell. Pads, I've known since I was ten that I have two mates. Bond mates. It's a wolf thing, and an alpha thing, and we can talk about it all you want later, but there you go, two mates. And, um, fuck, oh god, Siri...one of them is you. I've known it since the train that first time.'

Sirius just blinked at him.

'Well, this is going well', Remus muttered darkly. 'And just so we all know, the other one is Sleeping Beauty here, who I apparently part bonded with last night.'

Sirius just blinked at him.

'Oh Merlin's balls, I broke the dog', groused Remus.

Sirius just blinked at him.

'Well then, congratulations, and moving on. If you are happy for the bond to develop, you would need to, like I said, return Mr Snape's magic to him. If Mr Black here both regains sentience and consents to bond with you, he could share his magical core with either both of you, using your core as a conduit between the three of you, or with just you, replenishing your core with his energy. Mr Black, have you understood what has just been said here?'

They both waited expectantly for a response. Slowly Sirius moved his lips, then, as no sound came out, cleared his throat and tried again.

'Mates?'

'Yes, Pads. If you'll have me, of course. Mates.'

'Both mates?'

'Both mates.'

Sirius shook his head in exactly the same way he did as Padfoot. He looked straight at Severus, then back to Remus. 'Merlin, I get both of you? Without pissing you off? Quite apart from I'd do it just to save Sev's life, yes, of course, you daft plonker. Can we do the conduit thingy? I don't want you draining yourself. Alpha.'

Remus just blinked at him.

A muffled snigger broke the moment, and they looked up to see Dr Bardwell, laughing into the back of her fist while tears streamed down her face. They looked at each other and rolled their eyes, shrugging.

'I'm so sorry to be unprofessional, gentlemen, but I think I'm going to give you that memory as a wedding present. Ok. If you are both happy to proceed, I need you, Mr Black, to focus your magic on connecting with Mr Lupin's energy core. Mr Lupin, once you can feel Mr Black's magic entwining with yours, I need you to sink your awareness into Mr Snape and wrap it around his mind, while at the same time circulating your combined magic through his core. From my own reading, I see Mr Snape's Occlumency barrier as broken fencing, currently. There may be differences to your visualisation, but you'll know once he starts to become aware of you when your image changes and becomes more complete. I am also going to bridge Harry's awareness to Severus' before removing myself from all connections. Try and cycle the magical energy through you all until you feel balanced. When you feel connected, try and match your breathing, and I'll lift the coma spell slowly off Mr Snape.' 

Connecting their three cores took less time to do than it took to say, and Remus was briefly lost in the warm, loving surge of magic pouring into him from Sirius. The pain of his injuries was blotted completely out. It felt like sunshine, and for a moment Remus allowed himself to revel in it before pulling gently on the wide ribbon of magic he visualised, wrapping it around and through Severus's magical core and back through him to Sirius in an endless connection. Watching closely, Bardwell could see Severus' colour improving as the magic began to circulate through them, and as Remus embraced Severus's mind and their breathing synchronised, she slowly, to minimise the risk of shock, lifted the spell holding him in coma. Turning to Harry, she lightly dipped into his subconscious and gathered the threads of the parental bonds, now twined around the central thread representing Severus, and drew them slowly and lightly into Severus' awareness, looping them with the bond that linked Severus to Harry and reinforcing them all with each other; withdrawing with practiced ease.

For Remus, watching Severus return to wholeness from within was nerve wracking and awe inspiring. He sensed the reinforcement of Harry's bond, the soft spreading of the threads reaching to the torn places and meshing over them. Inspired, he added his own threads into the mesh, overlaying them with protection and love, and pulled, with a silent permission swirling through their connection, similar threads from Sirius. 

As the bonding threads filled in the visualised tears and gaps, so the image began to shift. The fence visualised by Bardwell became a curtain of pure sunlight, warm and spiced with warm, woody notes, parchment, cinnamon and neroli; the pure clean sense of Severus' presence.


	13. Behind Closed Doors

All over Britain the owls soared.

In Wizarding homes up and down the country, grim-faced Aurors crawled over the ruined cottage in Godric's Hollow, its Fidelius broken and revealed in the full page photo on the front of the Daily Prophet. 

The DMLE had given up Obliviating muggles not long after dawn, and simply erected muggle repelling barriers around the village centre and the hastily set up official Apparition sites; necessary after some near collision and splinching incidents from the sheer amount of gawkers, reporters, florists and mourners heading to the newly-visible Potter home. By 9am, the only muggles left in the village were the elderly and the incurious, who stayed in their homes and watched their daytime TV as usual.

In Wizarding areas up and down the country there was an air of celebration that Voldemort was gone, presumed dead, rather than mourning the fallen. The name 'Harry Potter' was being toasted in GillyWine and Firewhisky by mid morning; three local TV news teams had to be redirected and memories modified after attempting to report on extraordinarily rambunctious street parties in Manchester, Glastonbury and Tenby, and the sheer amount of owls flying by daylight had triggered special ornithological discussions on Radio Four and BBC 2. Zonko's were obviously going to have sold out of fireworks by dusk, and old Cariadoc Zonko had been interviewed on the Wizarding Wireless News, thanking 'the Boy Saviour' for having the foresight to arrange doing away with You-Know-Who in the run up to Bonfire Night, as he already had extra house-elves working around the clock to produce more.

With the Prewetts dead, the wards had sealed over the Grange, awaiting the coming of age of the Heir. Unable to access their meeting place, the Order met in Arthur and Molly's cottage, the Burrow; wizarding space enlarging the kitchen to fit them all in as the dawn broke.

The mood inside was sombre. Voldemort was gone, probably - hopefully - dead, but at a dreadful personal cost. Maybe half the Order was present, with Dumbledore and Minerva the most senior remaining. Arthur and Molly were practically holding each other upright; in one terrible night Molly had not only lost her beloved twin brothers but her best friend Marlene McKinnon, as well as the Potters. Frank and Alice sat on a low bench, taut with sustained anxiety. Alastor Moody was the most visibly scarred amongst them, with a white patch covering the newly empty eye socket and a raw scar descending from his scalp to his upper lip, obliterating half his nose. Dingle and Doge. Vance and Figg. The disgusting Mundungus Fletcher. Black and Lupin understandably absent.

Glaringly absent, of course, were James and Lily Potter. Before going into hiding, Lily Potter had been their key strategist, showing an ability to developing battle plans and retreat lines, even on the fly, that impressed even Dumbledore and Moody, who had confirmed her Field Leader role. James, Alastor and Frank had always formed their point team, and worked seamlessly in battle with James taking the forward position. With both he and Frank away from the Action last night, Alastor had had to redeploy Arthur and Benjy Fenwick, and while both had fought valiantly Benjy had fallen to Rosier's AK within minutes of the pitched battle starting. Molly had taken Rosier out with a well placed cutting hex and stepped up into position, but until the Auror team had shown up with additional fighters the battle had been too close to call.

Dumbledore was still furious at having been taken in for questioning like a common criminal. There were those at the Ministry who publicly deplored what they termed 'a group of vigilantes', though such descriptions were usually shouted down by a well manipulated Press as well as most of the Wizarding world. However, at least he'd been on hand for one of the most rewarding scenes of the last thirty years: the sight of Lucius Malfoy, back arched and heels drumming on the floor, screaming under what was undoubtedly a form of Cruciatus, as the sounds from other cells indicated other Death Eaters were undergoing the same treatment.

Voldemort had fallen. 

Not only that, but he'd taken the Potters with him, and there would be a private toast tonight to getting that source of irritation out of the way. The brat had disappeared, although there was surprisingly little mention of that amongst the Aurors and Unspeakables within range of his Notice-Me-Not charm. An idea to spin that had been fully developed by the time he and the rest of the Order were released, with the concept of the 'Child Saviour' so deftly dropped into murmured conversations during his long meander to the Atrium that by the time the Press had finally been allowed near him, *they* were asking *him* where the Child Saviour was. By the time the kid had been found, public opinion would have been whipped up to the point it would be obvious even to Child and Family Department officials that it would be impossible for him to grow up quietly and privately in the Wizarding world. He would be only too delighted to provide them with an alternative, and family at that.

However, it was clearly time to 'rest' the Order. Too many of their best were gone. Alastor was a fine fighter, of course, but with no physical battle to be fought the man was almost useless to him in the new day that was dawning. With no political influence and the subtlety of a wounded bear, he was one to be kept caged until needed at a later date. Arthur too had little Ministry acumen. The mild Compulsion interesting him in Muggle society and innovations had triggered an obsession, and he would never be seen by Ministry highbrows as anything other than an affable curiosity. Minerva was obsessed with the school, rather than a wider interest in society, and although she fought like a tiger it was to protect 'her own' - the students, present and past, whom she had shepherded through their formative years. No, a new crop of Order recruits would be needed; nurtured through OWLS, NEWTS and Masters, steered into position in the DMLE, Wizengamot and Ministry, before any further plans could be brought to fruition.

"With Voldemort dead", he began, "and faced with our own grievous losses, I feel it best that we step back from our glorious struggle, and do our best in our own ways to support the Ministry in recovering, for the greater good of Wizardkind. That is not to say that we go our separate ways, never to reunite, but I feel, and I expect you all agree, that our focus should be on healing, both ourselves and families, but also our community."

There were nods and murmured agreement from around the table, and Dumbledore mentally congratulated himself on calling them to meet so soon after most of them had left their cells. Even Minerva was clearly exhausted; something to do with Snape and the werewolf, and wasn't it interesting that those two were apparently close?

Other than platitudes about sacrifice, dedication, each held in esteem etc etc ad nauseum, the meeting was adjourned fairly soon afterwards, with promises to see each other at the various funerals. Dumbledore's next meeting would be with the Interim Minister, Millicent Bagnold. He expected she would be delighted to have his loyal, and very public, wholehearted support for her endeavours. Just as he would be delighted to have hers.

\---------

Mycroft placed his cup on the table with, perhaps, a little more force than was necessary, leading Bernard to look up with an eyebrow raised - the closest the man ever came to shock. Mycroft waved a hand dismissively. "Dumbledore", he said. "I have to say, he knows how to manipulate a situation. Harry Potter, thanks to him, is already the Child Saviour And Defeater Of Voldemort. If he finds out what actually happened in that house, it will be The Boy Who Lived, or He Who Was Foretold, or some such nonsense. His photo is already in this morning's Prophet, I see. Please have it confirmed for me that all private papers and photos were recovered from the house before the teams left last night. The last thing we'll need is a putative Will being printed out in Which Witch, claiming Albus is the boy's guardian."

"From reports, Sir, it looks like they followed your advice regarding that, as very little personal documentation was left in the house. I suspect that they stored the greater majority in their vaults. Would you like me to have the Goblins announce that the Potters Last Will and Testaments have been lodged with Gringotts, and the heirs and Guardians have already been informed?"

"Yes. That might derail him somewhat. Having the blood adoption sealed under Gringotts Fidelius was, in hindsight, one of the smartest things the Potters ever did. Have you got the latest report from Sherrinford?"

"Mr Lupin is considered out of danger, sir, and due to a certain procedure he does not name, Mr Snape's prognosis has greatly improved. Doctor Bardwell's report lists the names of three specialists in Pediatrics, Curse Breaking and Mind Healing that she would like to have examine the boy, two of whom have already come to our attention."

Mycroft scanned the list. "Yes to the paediatrician, we'll have a goblin come examine the curse under Fidelius, and definitely no to that mind healer. Bardwell's the only one I will allow to see the child's memories."

The parchment was taken delicately from him. "The majority of the Death Eaters in custody have regained consciousness, and with your leave I have all available Unspeakables undertaking the pre-Auror interviews from this afternoon. Greyback and his presumed associates have not been located as yet. Three Death Eaters died under the curse, and seven have been moved to the Janus Thickey ward for evaluation of apparent insanity. Karkaroff, Knott and Malfoy's solicitors have all served briefs alleging they were Imperiused for the last four years, two years and two years respectively. Our American counterparts have signalled that Regulus Black has arrived at the safe house, and once the Longbottoms have been located, assuming they still wish to, they will be able to use the arranged route in place for tonight. Moving on, the Minister's aides are in consultation with Head Office at present, Sir, so that is proceeding as normal."

"Do we have any information yet about the Longbottoms' location?" enquired Mycroft.

"Witness statements corroborate their being in Hogsmeade at 9am this morning, where they were seen with Minerva McGonagall. However, as McGonagall was teaching Transfiguration to 23 Fifth Year students at that time, it's safe to say that they were speaking to someone under Polyjuice. We have a ward breaking team at the LeStrange Manor, and have an Anti-Apparition net over the building, but if other Death Eaters have them, then they could be as lost as Dearborn."

Mycroft stood, and smoothed the line of his cuffs. "I need to go to St Mungo's and New Scotland Yard, after which I will be at safe house Arthur, debriefing Black and Lupin. Once the Longbottoms are located or the LeStrange wards fall, contact me there."

Bernard inclined his head as Mycroft stepped through the Floo, and returned to his paperwork.

\------

Frank Longbottom opened his eyes.

Opposite him his wife hung in similar chains of Air, her eyes closed. A shaft of daylight pierced the gloom of the dark room they were in, but he could see no further than his wife's ashen face. "Alice?" he croaked.

There was no answer from her, but a deep chuckle came from the hidden corner behind them. "Alice isn't available at the moment. You'll have to make do with my wife, I'm afraid. Straight exchange seems fair, don't you think?"

Frank's gasp sounded more like a sob as he realised the implications of that comment. There was a tutting sound directly opposite, and the 'click' of spiked heels across a marble floor. 'Now now, dear. Don't break our toys yet. Why don't you run and get Barty and your brother, while Frankie-baby and I have a nice little chat?"

Bellatrix LeStrange stepped into the beam of light as the door behind Frank opened and Rodolphus strode out, calling for the others. The sole female Death Eater in Voldemort's inner circle looked like hell. Huge shadows were under her eyes, stark in her milky white skin, and her hair was a chaotic mess. She seemed to know his thoughts. "Forgive us for not looking our best. Rough night for us all, I'm sad to say. Going by your faces when you popped into Hogsmeade this morning, though, I can't say yours looked much better. A hard night with the baby? Hungover, perhaps?" She laughed, and he could hear the cracking rasp in her voice where she must have been screaming for most of the night. 

Behind him, footsteps, as the three men came into the room. Rastaban was limping heavily, and Crouch was snarling with poorly controlled rage as they came to stand next to Bellatrix, Rodolphus moving behind her to embrace her, tiny in his arms. Tiny or not, she was the directive force of the trio, and Frank knew to keep his eyes on her. Truth was though, no matter where he looked, he expected both he and Alice would die in this room, and he just hoped Alice never regained consciousness; a hope that was dashed when Bellatrix cast a whispered 'renervate' towards her. 

Alice's eyes opened, but to Frank's horror, there was no awareness in them. Bellatrix smiled warmly. "I'm afraid the boys might have got a bit carried away while you were sleeping, Frank. Barty in particular was very cross with her. Do you know, she absolutely refused to tell him what that nasty Ministry have done with Our Lord? And she didn't seem to have any idea at all why our Marks burned like acid and the Cruciatus shocked through us till morning. Do you know what that felt like?" She moved out of Rodolphus' arms to lightly circle round Alice, before peeling back the sleeve of the robe Alice had thrown on that morning. Frank swallowed dryly as he noticed how the sleeve stuck to the arm beneath, and Alice let out a pained moan as the arm beneath was revealed.

Crouch laughed. "Well, what do you know, the bitch is still with us. Enough, at any rate."

Frank barely heard him as he vomited in reaction to the sight of Alice's arm. The skin was entirely gone, and the muscle lay in strips, exposing the bone. Bellatrix 'tsk'd' in disapproval. "Really, Frank. No woman likes to have it put so bluntly that their husband doesn't find them attractive anymore. It's very thoughtless of you." She squeezed one of the hanging muscles , barely attached to the bone, and Alice gave out a mindless scream as Frank sobbed. "From the cute little noises she makes, I'd say that our Marks hurt exactly like that. Imagine the night we had!" Her eyes went soullessly blank. "Imagine the day we'll have."


	14. With Eyes Wide Open

It was fully dark outside by the time Severus opened his eyes.

Across the hallway Mycroft sat in his study, head bowed, as the report detailing the 'rescue' of the Longbottoms and the arrest of Crouch and the LeStrange brothers lay on the desk in front of them. Already it was obvious that there would be no return from the madness the couple had been tortured into, leaving Neville Longbottom more of an orphan than Harry. He knew Augusta Longbottom personally; she'd been a housemate of his mother, and he pitied her having to bring up another child at her time of life almost as much as he pitied the child.

Bellatrix had slipped the net, as much to her husband's surprise as to the Aurors' frustration on storming the building. The woman had clearly had a portkey on her; a portkey her husband didn't know about. Which, given her slavish devotion to Voldemort, would certainly be a useful tool in breaking the man. It also meant that with both Pettigrew and Bellatrix at large, it was imperative that Severus, his child and mates, needed to leave Britain as soon as possible, and ensured that the upcoming Trials would be a security nightmare. The funerals were also a too tempting target.

The family upstairs still had to be debriefed, but Mycroft acknowledged that he had been awake since 6 am the previous morning, and he was not operating effectively. Bernard had been ordered home at three, under protest, but everyone who had been on duty last night had been relieved at 5pm and sent home for the night by his order.  
He stood wearily and headed down the hallway to his suite, checking in, as had become routine, on the three men and the child in the expanded bed. Dark eyes looked up at him, and Mycroft felt a welcome lift in his heart as Severus held eye contact with him. 

"It's good to have you back with us, cousin."

"Care to explain why I have two men in my bed?" came the reply. Mycroft smiled, the rare but heartfelt expression showing that, while exhausted, this moment was the best he'd felt since yesterday. 

"I'll leave that to them to explain. I'll just say that both these men and yourself have a lot of talking to do, but that I am convinced you'll be happy with their explanation. I, on the other hand, am going to bed. Any other answers can wait till tomorrow, or you can ask Sherrinford. I'll send Turnwise in with some food for you all and some toys for Harry." 

Severus nodded his thanks as Mycroft left the room, and he turned his attention to a squirming Harry. He kissed him on the forehead. "Oh Harry. You shouldn't be here, should you, but as you are, I want you to know that you will never be alone. I love you."

"We all do", came a soft rumble. "And Sev, we love you too." came a deeper voice from behind Harry, as Sirius lifted his head off the pillow to make eye contact. "Me and Remy here have something to tell you, but I want you to know, right away, that I'm in 100%."

Severus looked at them both as they sat up and Harry wriggled sleepily onto his lap. "I can feel you both. Harry too, though not the same." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't understand. What's happened, Remus? Why can I hear you, even behind my shields? Why can I feel Sirius?"

Remus looked grave. "You bonded with me when you gave me nearly all of your magic. You were a Lumos away from burning yourself out when they found us, and given other...injuries you sustained, you were dying. We wouldn't let you go, Sev, we both love you too much."

Sirius took over smoothly, covering the news Remus couldn't bring himself to say. Neither of them wanted Sev to think that the bond only occurred because Lily and James had died, though the truth was that their death was the catalyst. "It turned out, the reason the bond was able to form in that way was because Moony here is a werewolf. A werewolf who knew from the age of eleven that both you and I are his mates, and was waiting for the right time to let us know. Meanwhile, here's me, tearing myself up because I'd fallen for both of you and didn't know what the hell to do about it."

Severus sat, his mind racing. Mates. It felt right - not complete, but the bonds were deeper already than the bonds with Lily and James. He gasped as he realised that those bonds had profoundly altered. While before he had the sensation of them in his thoughts near constantly, now there was just a sadly sweet feeling of them both twining around his bond with Harry. Tears came to his eyes, and he looked up to meet the golden, loving eyes of his bonded.

"They are gone, aren't they" he said simply.

Remus nodded, his eyes sorrowful. "It was fast", Sirius rumbled, taking his hand. "He AK'd them both, no torture, just meant to be a quick in and out mission from how it looks. Mycroft and I, we got there just as he cursed Harry, and the house exploded. We don't know how, but he's gone. I got you their wands, Sev", and his voice broke, just a little. "They would want you to have them. You and Harry."

Remus took back over. "Once I regained consciousness, the doctor explained to me what was happening to you. I've been to her clinic before, and she knew that bonding was a possibility. There was no way of reaching you, or we both would have asked for your consent, Sev. We both wanted to do this anyway, not because of the situation. So, Siri looped his magic into my core, and I fed both it and mine into yours and looped it round and through us all until we were all levelled out.'

"And then he spliced our brains."

"Padfoot, that is not a helpful analogy", Remus said firmly.

"S'true, though", shrugged Sirius. Severus rolled his eyes. "Care to translate for the hound, Remus?"

"It's hard to explain, other than how it felt. The Mind Healer was taking the bond between you and Harry, and wrapping the severed edges of your bonds around it to strengthen it. It looked like a rope once she'd finished, so I went looking for the one we'd formed, and Sirius' energy was coiling around it in the same way. Your outer shields were gone; your inner shielding had great tears in it, and the parent bond was weaving over the gouges and healing them, so I just, um, copied it and helped it along by pushing our magic at it until you were all shimmering and gold. I could feel you were alright, so, um..."

"So he fell asleep," finished Siri. "I think I lasted another 30 seconds or so. We must have separated our magic at some point after that, because I can't feel it flowing in and out of me any more, but, I can feel you in here", as he tapped his head "just the same as I feel Remus'.

"Can you feel Harry?" wondered Severus, but both men shook their heads. "I didn't touch the parent bond at all. You are Harry's blood-father and have been since the ritual. We can work out what you want us to be for Harry once you know whether you want to take the bond further between us", Remus said firmly.

Severus looked astonished at that, but Sirius gently squeezed his hand. "Sev, you didn't get to have any say in this. The decision to complete the mating bond is going to be completely down to you. You know we both want you, wanted you before this, but while I hope that you will want us in return, neither of us want to take any other choices away from you." Remus was nodding in agreement as Sev looked from one to the other.

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Harry's voice saying "Papa, Hawwy hungry. Eat now?" As if summoned by the child, Turnwise popped into the room and swiftly turned the second bed into a table and chairs, then summoned the food. Sirius sprung up to help Remus up from the bed, but stood back to let him limp to the nearest chair, Severus scowling to see the ungainly movements of such a graceful man. "We will be talking about that next, just so you are aware, Wolf." He swung his legs out of the bed and stood, carrying Harry over to the high chair and settling him in, before turning and pulling Sirius towards him.

"I thought you knew, Hound. I started falling for you not long after Lily and James welcomed me as a friend, but the night of the Marking? You were all I could hold on to. All I could think was that I wanted to get back to you, needed you, and then when I got back and you held me all night? I have never felt so safe." He leant into the shell shocked man's body, and raised his lips to Sirius' in a soft kiss. "You've had my heart in your grubby paws since then. You on the other hand, Wolf, have been the cause of the most ridiculous crush since I was 13. Lily used to tease me mercilessly about it, and even at my most broodingly over-dramatic, you stalked my dreams. Those eyes of yours, sweet Merlin! So if you are worried that I might resent this bonding? Stop it now." 

Rather than let go of Sirius, he pulled him over to Remus side, where he let go of his hand to cradle Remus' head in both his, planting a searing kiss on the Were's lips. "I'm yours, both of you. And you're mine. And when we are not all reeling from losing James and Lily, and have worked out where the hell we're going to be, then you", and he kissed Remus again "and you", kissing Sirius, "are going to take me to bed, and we are going to complete this bonding in every way we can think of. So. Anything else I should know?"

Sirius cleared his throat. "Um, yes. Your son is wearing his dinner. And Remus is the Alpha."

Remus nodded. "There will be biting. Sorry about that."

Severus snorted as he vanished peas from the back of Harry's neck. "Biting I can deal with. I just refuse to let either of you call all the shots. You got yourself a really pushy power bottom when you linked with me, and I am extremely high maintenance." He took a bite of his own dinner and savoured the look on both his mates faces, as, sensing something funny had happened, Harry crowed with pleasure.

"You saved my life, Sev", Remus quietly stated. "You and Mycroft. Peter meant to kill me. He must have been working out how for some time. While he was, um, working on me, he was very clear that he hated the Marauders, Siri in particular." He looked at Sirius and reached out a hand across the table. "He said he was 'just' killing me, that it wasn't personal, would you believe. You, on the other hand, he was trying to drive you insane by killing all your friends and framing you for it all. He said you would go chasing after him in some heroic fashion, and either get taken down by Death Eaters or Aurors, but that people would believe you were the Secret Keeper and a Death Eater; that you wanted James' inheritance and title. He wanted you to die, Kissed or in Azkaban."

Sirius paled. "Then Mycroft saved my life." He quickly explained that after grabbing Harry, Mycroft had grabbed them both and side-alonged them straight to the Trewissick house. "If I hadn't have been on the team that went to James and Lily's, I'd have gone after Peter, no question. He locked me out of the Floo and Apparition permissions for here as soon as we got here, but of course by that time you were both being worked on here and Padfoot took over, basically."

Severus looked at him, gravely. "He studied your weaknesses as much as Remus'. Without knowing this you'd still be planning to hunt him down, wouldn't you?" 

Both the other men nodded.

"I don't think you'll be able to now, though", Remus added. "The bond is going to prevent us from moving too far from each other for some months until it settles, and, well, you know" he finished awkwardly, blushing. Severus smirked. "Indeed", he murmured. "Bonding aside, Pettigrew didn't think that Voldemort's and his followers would fall, and Sirius was quite demonstrably not screaming in pain from the Mark in front of Aurors and Unspeakables, which will defuse that allegation. A controlled interview with Veritaserum in front of unimpeachable witnesses will prove you were not the Secret Keeper."

Sirius ran his hand through his shaggy hair. "Without wanting to sound like an egomaniac, I don't understand why Pettigrew hates me at all. Let alone enough to kill our friends in some nightmarish plan to get me Kissed or sent to Azkaban. I'd never have thought he had the balls to attack anyone even if he hated them, let alone do what he did to you, Remy."

Remus shrugged. "Apparently you belittled him for six years, made fun of his animagus form, sabotaged his school work, stopped others from befriending him and stole potential girlfriends. Lots of teen angst type stuff, but he was pretty much frothing at the mouth when he was ranting at me about it, and then he'd start in with the curses and knives again."

Severus covered his hand with his own. "You can talk when you're ready about this, and when Little One isn't around, but the limping concerns me." Remus shrugged. "He hamstrung me, and the tendons need to finish regrowing; apparently muscles and tendons take longer than bones. I have just over 3 weeks before the next change, and they should be able to sustain the change by then; I'm just going to have to take it slow."

Severus nodded. "I can look into some potion combinations, or see if I can come up with something to speed up recovery for you." A yawn overtook him, and Sirius quickly rose and came to his side, guiding him back to the bed. "You need to rest love", he urged. "You and Remy are both still healing, and with the mental injuries you had, you're still expected to be asleep more than you're awake."

Remus rose too, and gingerly limped towards the bed. "I'm done for the evening too, Sev, so budge over. Siri can bathe Harry and get him down for the night, but you and I are going to curl up and snuggle."

There was a muttered "I don't 'snuggle', Wolf" from a clearly exhausted Severus, and Remus grinned as he wrapped an arm around the drowsy man and pulled him in close. 

"You do now, love. You do now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to review or comment! They're like sprinkling your author with chocolate.


	15. Baby Steps

At the same time as the public memorial service for the Potters was getting underway behind the impenetrable wards at Hogwarts, presided over by a solemnly benevolent Dumbledore, James and Lily were being laid to rest in the little cemetery in Godric's Hollow. Under the watchful eye of two Unspeakables teams, the people who were closest to the couple watched as Harry threw a tiger lily for his mother into their shared grave for his mother, followed by a crimson rose for his father, his baby face solemn and his healed scar hidden under a woolen bobble hat. Severus, Sirius and Remus spelled the earth smooth above them, then Severus planted the lily and rose bushes, placing a subtle Permanent Warming Charm at their roots to forever protect them from frost, and while Remus held Harry, Sirius transfigured a loose stone into a graceful headstone, reading simply:

James and Lily Potter  
Forever Loved.

An Unspeakable unobtrusively warded the grave after the family had apparated away.  
\---------

The door to Harry's room closed behind Severus and the medical team, and they made their way down to the library, where the others were waiting. Severus looked as if he'd aged 20 years, his skin gray with fatigue and worry. Immediately Remus stood and moved to support his mate, guiding him to a chair between him and Sirius. Mycroft stood and formally greeted the goblin and the two doctors before inviting them to be seated.

As protocol required, Gracklewrat spoke first. 

"The scar contains a horcrux"' he said bluntly. Sirius blanched, whereas Remus looked confused. Mycroft explained. "A horcrux is the product of the blackest of soul magic. There is an Old Magic ritual, requiring the death of a witch or wizard, that splits the soul of the murderer and imbues it in an object. The purpose is to grant immortality."

"How are we going to get it out of him?" Severus asked wearily.

Gracklewrat looked uncomfortable. "I don't know", he admitted. "The horcruxes that we have dealt with in the past have been inside inanimate objects; nothing with a soul of it's own. Frankly, the objects I know of were destroyed in the process, although I will return to our libraries and try to trace other methods. The only sure way that I would think possible in a living being would be to induce death in controlled circumstances, and then attempt to resuscitate the boy. However, depending on how strong either soul is, you would not be able to guarantee which soul returned to the body."

"Out of the question," snapped Severus. His shoulders slumped. "I apologise, Breaker Gracklewrat. However, I will neither risk my son or the possibility of giving Voldemort a new body. Is there any way to mitigate the soul's presence? What damage will it do left as it is?"

Gracklewrat considered the question gravely. "If left untouched then I do not doubt that there would be mental, emotional and magical interactions that would be harmful to the boy. The soul is, for the moment, quiescent, probably due to the separation being so recent, but with object horcruxes, writings speak of their malign aura and ability to warp perceptions. Such a force literally next to a developing mind and soul would cause untold damage. Traditional methods of destroying a Horcrux would be magical venom or spelled silver blades, but again, you are dealing with the Horcrux site being so close to the brain. It is theoretically possible, I imagine, that a Dementor may be able to differentiate between the two souls, and I can certainly require advances to be made to their Clan Chief to ascertain if this can be done, but while there are soul barrier spells listed in our archives, it has been hundreds of years since the last recorded use. It would require the Elder Council to authorise one of our healers to learn the spell."

The men in the room were numb with shock. Venom? Dementors? Those words were impossible to imagine in conjunction with the sleeping toddler upstairs. Mycroft cleared his throat. "On behalf of the Department, I would like to request that these two requests be carried back to your Nation, and I pledge that in recompense the Department shall offer the gold and blood determined as fair price."

The goblin inclined his head to accept the formal offer. "I recommend that in the meantime the child be treated by gifted Legilimens, who will need to stay in constant mental contact with the child to prevent mental links being created by the parasite soul. If you will excuse me, I will go and begin the bargaining process on your behalf. Rest assured that this matter is covered by the Potter-Snape and Gringotts Fidelius agreement." On that last, the goblin bowed deeply to Mycroft, then Severus, and disapparated. 

Dr Bardwell spoke up. "As you are aware, my colleague and I are not only bound by Healer oath to keep this matter private, we are also under Fidelius to the Department of Mysteries. As such, Mycroft, if you wish to formally state that all consultations and treatment of the child are included under that Fidelius, I think that would be the wisest course."

Mycroft nodded, appreciating that it had been raised in such clear terms to the family. "I, Mycroft Holmes, Senior Unspeakable for the Department of Mysteries, state that the medical treatment of and consultations pertaining to Harry Evan James Potter-Snape Prince and that of his parents is covered by the Fidelius Agreement existing between the Department of Mysteries, Jane Cariad Bardwell, and Johannes August McGonagall regarding Medical Care and Research for all Mysteries Staff. As Secret Keeper for this Oath I also include Remus John Black Snape Lupin and Severus Tobius Black Lupin Potter-Snape." The glow of the bond flared briefly over all bar Sirius. Remus looked quizzically at Sirius, who shrugged. "Already covered. Bardwell is the St Mungo's Mind Healer for all Unspeakables.

Dr. McGonagall spoke first. "Physically, Harry is a very healthy toddler. He is average for height and weight, above average in dexterity, language and mental processing for his age, up to date with all his vaccinations and above the highest percentile in terms of his magical core, probably because of having three parents. If he hasn't already begun having wild magic outbursts, he will very soon. I recommend teaching him some simple spells, such as colour-changing, but no Lumos, Wingardium Leviosa or similar, unless you particularly enjoy chaos. Possibly due his body needing to rapidly utilise the large magic expansion this young he is now a bearer, which must have been latent as it wasn't on his earlier notes. While rare it won't affect his development at this age and is nothing to worry about, just requiring the usual precautions as he develops. There may be possible complications there with his future animagus ability, which is definitely present, although obviously we won't know in what form until he matures. I would definitely suggest teaching him the transformation significantly earlier than normal, say around age 7 or 8, in order to have an outlet for the amount of magical energy he will have to learn to manage."

He sipped at some water nervously, and carried on: "My first scan detected the residue of two significant spell affects. He was hit, no doubt about that, by the Killing Curse. It's signature is unmistakable, and the spell was overpowered at that. The wand signature matches that of Thomas Marvello Riddle, otherwise known as Lord Voldemort, and is is confirmed as being the wand I tested this morning with Ollivander's Maker's Mark and attestation of ownership. The curse scar in the shape of a lightning bolt is characteristic of the Avada Kedavra spell and is more usually found on corpses at point of contact. The curse site contains significant Dark magic, and is consistent with the description given by Breaker Gracklewrat."

He handed the wand back to Mycroft, clearly glad to be rid of it.

"The other spell is very unusual. It appears to be a rarely seen form of Wild Magic, obviously called forward in extremis by Lily Potter at, or rather, immediately prior to, the moment of her death. The sacrificial manner of her death, to wit, that she was endeavouring to protect Harry to her last heartbeat, formed a protective barrier around him that is only dissipating now. Our theory is that the barrier actually reflected back the killing intent of the curse, which would seem to be the force that disembodied Riddle.

"How does he have a horcrux then?" demanded Sirius. "Why did the magic let that through?"

"Intent", replied Severus. "I would theorise that the spell to create the Horcrux was triggered by the stress of the Killing Curse rebounding, and was probably wild magic repeating a combination of spells commonly used. Which means there are probably at least one or two more horcruxes out there, if that was the backlash response. The intent of that spell was purely reactive to the disembodiment and fracturing of Voldemort's magical core, and not intended to affect Harry. The spell just reached out for the nearest vessel that could support a soul."

McGonagall eyed Severus with respect. "That fits our theory", he agreed. "The scar is the hallmark of the Killing Curse, and while it is odd that it marked Harry through his mother's barrier it isn't unheard of for Wild Blood Magic to require a sacrifice from the benefiting party as well as the caster. The most unusual feature, other than that Harry lives, is that the backlash caused the complete physical breakdown of Riddle's body. The scans taken by Unspeakables at the scene reveal no particles that can be attributed to Riddle's physical form, not even hair or skin flakes. Even when Apparating, hair or skin traces can be found by a detailed enough sweep."

Doctor Bardwell took over, and handed Severus a silvery phial. "Harry's memory of the evening is here, but preliminary Pensieve testing shows clearly Riddle's body collapsing in on itself immediately prior to the implosion which destroyed the roof and wall immediately above and behind Harry. If not for the sacrificial protection his mother had conferred, Harry should have been killed in this incident too, but he was completely untouched. I must point out though that at this moment he is almost as physically vulnerable as any other child of his age."

Sirius nodded to Mycroft. "We were speaking of this last night. The destruction of the room was incredible, but Harry was just standing there, completely untouched by the rubble, with just the blood on his forehead. Lily too; she just seemed asleep, without even any dust on her."

Severus squeezed his hand gratefully while Remus increased the pressure of his hug for a moment. "How is his mind?" he managed to ask.

"Currently, completely fine. The bond work I did has spread out like a lattice over his mind, and is shielding him from the traumatic events very effectively. The dampening of the memory after it's retrieval will assist in his recovery, of course, as will his really being too young to understand what he witnessed. He has strong feelings for all three of you, particularly his father, and as much time as you can spend with him in the coming days will strengthen those feelings and help him resist negative energy coming from the Horcrux initially, we believe. However, leaving it there, even if it is not deliberately triggered, will eventually allow negative energy to affect him."

"Effects or symptoms ?" asked Mycroft, briskly.

"Harry is a happy child by nature. Prolonged exposure to certain Dark Artifacts can cause mood changes such as withdrawal and depression, appetite loss and the inability to maintain mental shielding; wild magic outbursts tend toward the destructive, both inwardly and outwardly. There can be low self esteem and poor resilience to others' negativity, and an inability to project hope for the future. There would also likely be an inability to develop rounded socialisation skills, so sufferers of such emotional vampirism find it difficult to make or sustain many friendships, one or two at most. Prolonged emotional and mental illness has a knock on effect to the physical and magical health, so think clumsiness and a higher than usual damage from accidents, alongside a reduction in fine motor skills. I'm sorry, it is a bleak prognosis. I understand that Mr Snape is a natural Legilmens and Occlumens, so while we can hope that Harry inherits these abilities from you, your shielding support skills will be vital to preventing damage. However, you cannot do this alone, as until this thing is removed, Harry would ideally have 24 hour shielding."

\-----

Mycroft waited until the doctors had left before beginning to speak. "I can have two shielders from the Department here to provide you cover for with Harry's sleeping hours, but I don't think this is a realistic long term solution. We will need all three of you here for the Trials as witnesses. I'll go over all that with you tomorrow, but for now, obviously Crouch has received eyes-only confirmation of your authorisations as Mysteries Operatives In Place, so there is no concern on that front.

"My father was friends with a brilliant man, an Oxford Professor, who was a profoundly gifted Legilmens. St Mungo's at the time were able to detect no limits to his abilities. One of the first things I did on reaching the appropriate career level was, at his request, to disappear him from all Ministry, medical and school records. He has an establishment in America with which we are both keen to develop strong links, as well as involvement in key Muggle projects which have significant impact potential for the Wizarding world. 

"My plan was, on extraction from Voldemort's organisation, to send you out there, Severus, and he was expecting the Potters to join him this week. He and others he associates with would be able to help Harry purely on shielding alone, round the clock, without being drained, and I believe that his establishment and links would be vital in extracting the Horcrux. Obviously I would transfer Sirius, and I am certain that he would find Remus an extremely useful addition to his colleagues.

"Without being able to confirm Voldemort's death, we have to work on the assumption that he will at some stage return. I think it extremely ill advised that any of you be here until that time. With Bellatrix, Greyback and Pettigrew still at large, Britain is unsafe for each of you. There will be those expecting you to assist in his restoration, there will be those seeking to exploit Harry. Dumbledore is demanding to know who has him, and that he be sent to stay with what he terms 'Lily's close family, her Squib sister.' I am well aware from Severus of the truth of that statement, but removing Harry from the country would lessen those howling for Dumbledore's will to be obeyed. Obviously we will work to find solutions for Harry here, but in terms of asset protection alone we need to try and keep your covers here intact, which will be easier if you have careers that take you away."

He looked at them levelly. "Gentlemen, I will give you as much time as you need to make the decision. I will listen and try to fulfil any requests you have, but as assets to this Ministry you are all too valuable to waste, and all probable targets. I cannot impress upon you enough the danger you are in. I trust you will come to my way of thinking."


	16. In Times Like These

Harry was happily playing with Turnwise in the converted playroom, with Unspeakable Lovegood providing shielding for the day, when Severus kissed him on the top of his forehead and left with his bond-mates for the Ministry. They went under heavy glamours, like many out and about in Wizarding London. While Hogwarts had sent the students home for a two week Celebration Holiday, Severus had not returned to the school since leaving so dramatically during the Halloween Feast, and had not had a chance to think up an excuse. The last thing he wanted was to walk straight into Dumbledore outside the Ministry, nor, like Sirius, did he want any Death Eaters still walking free to witness them out and about. However, they would have to visit Gringotts, and his personal stock of potions ingredients was running too low to experiment effectively with potions for Harry.

They would also have to obtain papers enabling them to merge their personal, as opposed to lineage, Gringotts accounts; recognise each other legally as bond-mates and heirs; as well as draw up guardianship documents for Remus and Sirius to retain custody of Harry in the event of Severus' death, placing the Holmes brothers behind them in the chain of care. The risk of Dumbledore having any say in Harry's life, even if he was, as rumoured, in the running for Chief Warlock, had to be negated. Lastly, Letters of Authority needed to be obtained from the Goblin Head Teller in order for their accounts to be operated from America.

The talk had gone on late into the night, the three curled up around each other on the enlarged bed. The other bed had been vanished, and Harry's cot moved to that side of the room, and while not perfect, none of them wanted to sleep apart even if Remus in particular had not been cleared for anything physical. Their last stop, at St Mungo's, would hopefully indicate that he and Severus were discharged from their Healers care. Their shared kisses were growing increasingly passionate as the mating bond grew more solid, but anything more was being teasingly delayed until they could all go as far as they wanted.

Remaining in Britain carried an unacceptable risk to Harry, they all agreed, and with Regulus having gone ahead, none of them had any immediate family remaining. Severus knew that, while important to him, his cousins were not normally as present in his everyday life, and all of Remus' family was right here in the room with him. With James and Lily dead, there was no need for them to stay and every reason to go. Severus' only concern was for his godson, Draco, and to a lesser extent his mother. An owl had come for him from Narcissa just before they left. While it might be a trap - her sister was still at large, after all, he would need to speak to Mycroft about her request to meet.

The Ministry was still, to a degree, in chaos. Minister Bagnold, accompanied by a brightly attired Dumbledore and no less than six Aurors, was disappearing down the corridor to her Office as they flooed into the crowded atrium. An Unspeakable was waiting calmly at the wand weighing station, and he waved them through the line up, flashing his badge at the annoyed Auror on duty.

"Sorry about this," he said jovially, leading them rapidly down the walk to the lifts. "All sorts of people have been called to help out with the state funeral tomorrow, and nobody appears to be going home after their meetings. And you can't get near the Ward Office. Everyone wants their wards updating, no bugger knows how to do it themselves. I don't know what they learn at school these days, but when you can't ward your own house, then things have come to a pretty pass. Merlin must be rolling in his grave." The lift door opened into the Ministry corridor, and he wandlessly cast the spell to let them in the barrier. "Sorry about the prattling, Sirs. Too many ears. Please come this way."

They strode down the corridor till they reached Mycroft's office suite. In the waiting room, stiff backed, sat an expressionless Narcissa Malfoy, with her young son being quietly entertained by a small house elf. On seeing the three men enter, her tension visibly increased, so Severus, taking careful pity on her, let his glamour drop. 

Her relief was palpable. She rose gracefully, and approached him, extending her hand. Severus bowed over it, and kissed it in their usual fashion, then glanced to his feet, where Draco was pulling himself up by way of his robes. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "May I?" he asked. She nodded regally. "Of course, Severus. You are his godfather." Swiftly Severus lifted Draco up, and kissed him on his pert little nose. Draco crowed in pleasure and bopped his 'Sev'us' on the nose. Narcissa's face relaxed still more.

"What brings you here at such a time, Narcissa?" Severus asked gently. She looked warily, but proudly, straight at him. "I have come to throw myself and Draco on your cousin's, and the Ministry's mercy, Severus." She smiled slightly at Severus' start of surprise. "Genealogy is a fascinating and culturally appropriate hobby for a lady of means, and Prince is an honourable House. I thought a tapestry would please you, and had begun researching when I saw Eileen Prince's sister Violet was married to Sigur Holmes, with Sherrinford, Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes as their children. Such distinguished names. Did you know Sherlock is Head Boy? I sat with him at the Founders Feast just a few months ago. Very much a Ravenclaw, of course, a brilliant mind, just like his cousin's." She smiled affectionately at Severus. "We live in a small world, Severus; don't look so surprised. I hoped that Mr Holmes would consent to see me based on our friendship. I did not look to find you here, but I am pleased to do so."

Severus took her hand, and pressed it warmly. Looking closely he could see that a light glamour was in place, no doubt masking too many sleepless nights. "I take it Lucius is unaware of your intentions?" he asked softly, as she gestured for the three men to sit. 

Narcissa offered a tight smile in return. "If he had any inkling at all, Severus, you would have received an owl by now encouraging you to ... deal with the situation? Or Bella would have." She shrugged lightly. "As you can see, we are both alive, so Bella, at least at the moment, doesn't know. I have been able to activate the Malfoy name-only wards, at least, to keep her out of the Manor, but if she finds herself unable to enter she will know I have betrayed Lucius, at the very least. So, as you can see, I am quite in your cousin's hands, and in yours also."

Sirius cleared his throat, somewhat awkwardly. "If it helps at all, Cissy, I would be honoured to invoke the Right of the Black Family to protect both you and Draco."

She smiled at him, transforming her face from the cool, pure blood mask to one of warm beauty. "Thank you Sirius, and on behalf of myself and my son, Draco, I willingly accept your protection. I must admit to have been saddened when you began to frequent Lucius' company, fearing you lost to the Dark Lord's thrall. I am gladdened beyond measure to find you here and safe. You also, Mr Lupin. I- I am sorry to hear about the Potters and the Longbottoms, and I can only offer my deepest apologies for my husband's shameful position at Voldemort's side."

Remus looked at her, gravely. "It has been hard for all of us, Lady Malfoy, and I do not expect your life to have been pleasant over the last few years, but I thank you for your kind words." 

They sat, in silence only broken by Draco's occasional babble, until the door opened to let Mycroft enter the room. He raised an eyebrow to see Severus holding both a small toddler and the hand of Narcissa Malfoy, and wordlessly warded the outer door against intrusion and eavesdroppers.

"We may as well all sit here, as you all seem comfortable. Bernard, if you would?" The aide looked out of the inner office, briefly went out of site and returned carrying files, then quickly transfigured a plant pot into a low desk next to an empty chair.

"Judging the company you find yourself in, Lady Malfoy, I surmise that you are here to seek Sanctuary, hmmm?'

Narcissa Rose and crossed the room to stand before him, then suddenly knelt before Mycroft. "On my magic's honour and worth, I come before thee to beseech Sanctuary for myself and child, offering naught but honesty and loyalty." The age old words, heavy with magic, hung in the air.

"On my magic's honour and worth, I grant unto thee, Narcissa Black Malfoy, and to thy child, Draco Lucius Black Malfoy, Sanctuary under my Name and that of my Family."

A flare of magic washed over all three of them, and Mycroft offered his hand to help Narcissa rise. The mutual vow ensured complete transparency, loyalty and honesty, and for that reason was very rarely invoked, most people having some secrets of one kind or another. Acting as a type of spell-bound veritaserum, Narcissa would be able to conceal nothing from Mycroft, and he in turn would be compelled to shelter and otherwise aid her or else risk losing not only his own magic, but all those bound to the Holmes Family name. For such a simply worded oath, it was one of the most powerful in all Wizardry. Magic itself determined when both parties' obligation had been met, so in asking for her Oath to have been accepted, Narcissa had made clear to all her desperation.

\------

Bellatrix glared in fury at the little gate hidden amongst artfully overgrown ivy. It refused to open any more than the wards allowed her to apparate into the Manor grounds. Her owl had peeled off to the east, so Narcissa was obviously not home, but to have the wards deny her entry? The Floo deactivated? Narcissa had always been a coward, afraid of any confrontation with her more powerful sister, but if closing the wards had been a deliberate manoeuvre to shut her out, rather than some fearful, mouselike attempt to keep the Aurors away, then not even sisterhood would stay her wand. Cursing, she disapparated, leaving only a tiny alert spell to let her know when next the wards were accessed.

\-------

Mycroft steepled his hands, organising his thoughts.

"Lucius' trial will be one of the first, taking place after the McKinnon funeral. We'll have one of our Mind Healers assess you for any Damage caused, Narcissa, but you, Draco, Severus and Sirius will all need to be in protective custody for the duration of the trials you will be called as witnesses for. I recommend placing all of your affairs for the moment under Fidelius with Gringotts, and that any belongings you might want for the foreseeable future are placed in your vaults."

"There is no way you should go back to the Manor before Bellatrix is in custody in any case," rumbled Sirius' deep baritone. "You know what she is, and once either of us testify, she will be unhinged with rage. Your safety and that of Draco will rest on her not knowing where you are. In fact," he noted, turning to Mycroft, "given that she is likely to become deeply discontented with the Black family, I should blood-lock the wards on Grimmauld Place, and we should hide Andy's family too."

Mycroft nodded. "I'll send a team out to secure them once we are done here. I think you have been very wise to accept the relocation offer, gentlemen, and I hope that you will be able to give me your answer before the Trials begin next week, Lady Malfoy. Our legal team will be at your disposal regarding Draco's Heritage, but I believe the Wizengamot will be more kindly disposed towards you upon hearing your testimony. I would advise your flooing to Gringotts from the secured Floo here, and for Lady Malfoy to be escorted to the safe house from there. You cannot risk your glamour being penetrated, and the child makes the attempt ill advised, given his age. Your own house elves will be able to apparate into the safe house if you are there, so your effects can be brought to you."

He stood, and offered his hand to Narcissa. "Lady Malfoy, gentlemen, I understand that exile is a difficult decision. However, the safety of four Houses depends upon it, and that which you may be able to achieve will greatly benefit our society. You will be supported in your work and protected to the utmost of mine and my associates abilities, not only in the gathering storm.'

\--------

Harry was thoughtfully changing the colour of the topmost block to green when the beautiful woman came in the room, carrying another child. The other child was pretty, he decided. He had never seen hair that colour before! Silver grey eyes watched Harry carefully until the lure of the new toys and a potential friend urged the new child to slide off his mama's dress and toddle towards him. Casting around for something special for the pretty one, Harry spotted a soft silvery unicorn, and held it out shyly to his new playmate, who accepted it with eyes wide as his mama clapped in delight. 

\--------

Walpurga's house was also blocked to her, and while Bellatrix exploded a couple of muggle vehicles outside in rage, none of the unlocking spells she'd memorised as a child had had any effects on the wards, though she could faintly hear Walpurga's portrait cursing the noises outside. Severus was either prisoner or fled, judging by the rubble at his ghastly Muggle home, so he was going to be no help. The ward alarm at Malfoy Manor had not gone off, so wherever Narcissa was, she hadn't planned to return, and dammit, she needed a base to regroup from, with solid wards to mask her presence! The safe houses she was privy to had all been breached and were under Auror warding now, and the locations of the others, if they were still effective, were locked up inside Lucius' pretty but idiotic head. Voldemort's Lieutenant, captured so easily!

It was time to find Pettigrew. If the little rat had followed orders, then he at least might be in the fall-back position. Her luck had to change at some point soon. The fact that she was contemplating voluntarily working with the rat caused her face to set in a sneer, but with a determined set to her shoulders she apparated away from the burning street as the muggle sirens grew louder.


	17. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There will be sex.

Narcissa placed her napkin on the table, and rose to her feet, signifying the end of the meal. As the others rose she fought to keep the smile off her face. Really, did any of them think for a moment she hadn't seen the hot, furtive glances between them? The casually innocent brushes past each other's hands as they reached for glasses of wine? She hadn't seen that much bottled up sexual tension since Fifth Year, when teenage angst, confusion and hormones had triumphed, before Sixth Year had whirled them all into courting rituals and cosy trial coupledom. 

Silencing charms needed for tonight, both on her room and the new nursery, where both toddlers slumbered already, or else none of them would get a wink of sleep, she mused, climbing the stairs. Men never seemed to remember the simplest things. In fact... She quietly summoned Dobby, and sent him back to the Manor for some discreet little phials. Well, Severus had brewed them, and they were going to be of no use just shut inside a silenced home. Might as well stock up the potion shelves where they might be deemed helpful, and healing potions were always useful to have around... A most unladylike smirk showed on her face in the candlelight as she quietly shut her bedroom door.

The smirk on Sirius' face could easily have proved the cousins were related. Able to relax at last from the effort of keeping his demeanour composed, Severus let out a ragged breath. The hound had spent the entire meal maintaining eye contact with him, filling his mind with increasingly lewd images of Severus writhing underneath his touch, while Remus' hand had been lightly roaming over his thighs, occasionally brushing over his hard-as-nails cock. Both of them! He'd been hard-pressed to keep from moaning, while they both had managed to maintain light conversation with Narcissa. Rising from the table to bid her goodnight, he had never been so grateful that his robes allowed some discretion, and as she left the room, the door closing behind her, he grasped the edges of the dining table and leaned into its solid support.

Immediately Remus was there behind him, his breath warm against Severus' ear; his arms wrapping around him. "Mine, now”, he growled, the wolf in him clearly near the surface, and the sheer need in his voice had Severus quivering. They were barely aware of Sirius muttering spells to send the dinnerware to the kitchen and seal the doors. The whole of Severus' world had narrowed to the dark promise of that growling voice and the feel of Remus' hard prick grinding against him.

Sirius was now up on the table, sliding towards him; his outer robe discarded, his eyes fixed upon Severus' lips. As he claimed Severus' mouth, sucking and nibbling his lower lip before probing into his warmth with his tongue, Remus was growling, nibbling and nipping his way down the pale column of Snape's neck. Sirius began fumbling with robe buttons, but lost patience, wordlessly tearing Severus' robe and shirt apart and exposing the creamy skin beneath. The kiss faltered as he stroked the wiry hair scattered across Sev's chest, his fingertips brushing against the stiff nipples as Sev groaned into his mouth. The clothes were torn from his back at that noise, as Remus practically whined his need, and as Sirius bent his head to worry and suck each nipple in turn, Sev leaned back into the Were's firm chest, putting his arms above and behind him around Remus' neck; allowing his hands better access to the waistband of his trousers while arching his chest up towards Sirius' hungry mouth.

The Were cupped Sev's aching prick through his trousers, and he mewled and bucked his hips, thrusting mindlessly against the firm pressure. Remus growled deep in his chest as he pulled Severus close up against him, his cock rubbing against Sev's taut buttocks. Sirius looked up, and met Remus' eyes over the firm body of the man they pleasured between them, his head arched back as he moaned for more. He nodded in agreement, and swiftly slid off the table, Remus moving Severus back to allow Sirius to kneel in front of the man. The Were firmly moved Severus' head round towards his and leaned in to kiss the kiss-bruised lips, swiping his tongue between them just as Sirius leaned forward and gently mouthed through the cloth at the head of Severus' swollen cock. 

The man arched like lightning had shot through his body, and as Remus swallowed his groans Sirius deftly unbuttoned Sev's trousers and slid them down to mid thigh, freeing his cock from its prison to bob forwards towards Sirius's waiting lips, already sticky with pre-cum. One hand expertly moving over his shaft, the other caressing Severus' perfect arse, Sirius lapped at the beads of pre-cum glinting on the reddened head of the slender, long cock, before opening his mouth wide and swallowing him down in one smooth movement. Sev's strangled cry was answered by Remus's moan at seeing his mates pleasuring each other, and as Sirius moved his head up and down Severus' prick, Remus carded his fingers through both his mates hair, taking delight in their moans. 

Losing control, Severus started bucking fiercely, fucking Sirius's mouth as the kneeling man hummed around the cock in his mouth, a fierce cry erupting from him as thick cum spurted down Sirius' throat. Boneless, he relaxed utterly against Remus as Sirius gently suckled the last drops of cum from him before letting him slip gently from his mouth. He gently removed Severus trousers, before Remus beckoned him up and kissed him, revelling in the taste of his two lovers. Their arms entwined and Severus pliant between them, Remus simply apparated them up to their bedroom, and laid Severus down on the bed.

A little more patient now, the two men slowly undressed each other under Severus' reverent gaze, their bodies taut and toned, gleaming in the firelight. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything so beautiful as Sirius turned slowly in Remus' arms, back pressing against furry chest, one arm slipping up around Remus neck to be lightly nipped at, the other sensually trailing down his body, skimming his nipples, following the dark treasure trail down to his engorged prick, Remus' mouth hot against the line of his throat, offered completely to him. 

A whispered spell, and both Sev and Siri shuddered lightly as the oldest spell in the book sent cleansing magic dancing through them. A summoned phial flew into Severus' hand, and he swallowed thickly in anticipation before dripping the thickened oil over his fingers. Deftly he began working himself open, as Remus began preparing the man in his arms, enjoying the way Sirius bucked and wriggled as Remus lightly brushed his fingers over his prostrate. 

The sight of his two mates coming apart before him, and the smell of pure lust in the air, was calling to his wolf, and Remus was finding it harder to keep control. He had four fingers inside Sirius, and the noise he was making was making his knees shake with anticipation. Meanwhile Severus lay there looking utterly debauched, like some dark fallen angel, stretching himself wide open as his other hand worked so smoothly on his prick, giving his wrist that little flick on every upstroke that was making his breath catch, and making Remus throb to see. 

He couldn't delay the urging of his wolf any longer. Gasping, he guided Sirius to the bed and over Severus, holding onto his self control as he urged Sirius to sink slowly into Sev's beautiful, twitching hole, hearing his mates groan together as Siri's thick cock slid into Severus' inner warmth. Waiting until they stilled, Sirius as deeply in as could be, waiting for Sev to adjust.

He could wait no longer to claim his mates. Pushing carefully while he still could control that much, Remus fed the thick head of his cock into Sirius' entrance; pushing steadily past the guardian muscles until he felt them suddenly give and welcome him inside. His mind reeling from the intense pleasure of being inside his mate's heat after waiting so long, Remus forced himself to wait until Siri relaxed again, and slid further in, until his balls lay flush against firm skin, all of them groaning; under his weight Siri's cock filling Sev completely.

All three of them were moaning as he began to thrust into Sirius' tight passage, setting the pace for them all, fucking Sirius deep into Sev's hole. A slight change of angle had Severus groaning first, his "oh fuck, so good in me, fuck, fuck me, oh' sounding deliciously debauched dropping from his lips. Sirius was grunting with each thrust, incapable of speech, seeing stars from Remus' unfaltering assault on his prostate. Unsurprisingly he came first, a gutteral cry that provoked an entirely instinctual response from the wolf as Remus bit down, hard, on the place where throat and collarbone meet, Sirius barely aware of the pain as his orgasm tore through him and burst hotly into Severus's welcoming depths.

The wolf howled in triumph as one mate shook beneath him, slipping from beneath him as his arms and knees gave out and Siri rolled to the side, panting and glistening with sweat. Sev pulled himself partly up, reaching almost blindly for Remus, needing to feel his cock thrusting, grinding into him; almost incoherent in his desperation for the Were to fill him. Remus slipped easily in him, his way made easier by Siri's cum, but still feeling Sev tight against him due to his Were size. Sev whimpered with need below him, and having claimed one mate the wolf was too dominant for Remus to be gentle. He pounded into Severus, and Sev rose eagerly to meet every thrust, almost whiting out from the sheer overload from his nerves as Remus fucked hard past his prostrate over and over again. Their orgasms could not be held back; at one with the wolf Remus howled as he felt his balls drawing up, and as he bit down hard on the base of Sev's neck he felt the gush of coppery fluid in his mouth at the same time as Sev spurted his come between them. 

The sensory input was too much; Remus threw his head back and howled as he spilt into Sev's warm wetness. Aftershock after aftershock pulsed from his body into Sev, as Sirius tiredly reached out to stroke his shaking alpha and Severus mewled, still lost in the overload of sensation, his muscles milking Remus' cock of every drop. Finally Remus stilled and collapsed, drained of all energy, to the other side of Sev, as Sirius lightly kissed and nuzzled his way down the pale chest, lapping at the rivulets and smears of cum on the firm muscles of his abdomen, laying down his head there as Sev carded his fingers through his hair.

\-------

Sev had obviously risen to see to Harry at some point during the night, for when Remus drifted awake it was to find his arm wrapped around the solid muscles of Siri rather than Severus' wiry frame; a Siri who was moaning lightly in his sleep and pushing back against his Alpha. Remus moved his head and nuzzled the fresh bite on Sirius' shoulder, causing him to gasp. Smiling wickedly in the dark, Remus gently ran his tongue over that oh-so-sensitive neck, as his hand drifted over Siri's skin, pebbling it with goosebumps. 

Sirius became more awake with every inch of skin touched blazing, his dream fading into reality, his breath turning to panting as Remus trailed teasing fingers over his already hard prick, ghosting touches over his balls, circling his entrance. The soft licks at his neck turned to gentle nibbles, and Siri moaned softly, shivers chasing down his spine, automatically pushing back against the answering hard length pressed against him. A light growl from Remus; a sharp intake of breath from the doorway as Sev paused, the soft Lumos from his wand giving him just enough light to see their movements. Merlin, but they looked so fucking hot together, Sirus looking like he was about to shake apart with need; Remus so clearly in control and loving the effect he was now having on both bondmates as Sev began stroking himself slowly in response to the eroticism on view.

Sirius was whimpering now. "God, Remus, please - I need you in me, now, please"; Remus' fingers at work inside his greedy hole absolutely wrecking him. Severus groaned aloud at the wanton pleading, his hand firmly gripping his shaft, swiping his thumb through the pre-cum beading at the tip, murmuring "Give him your cock, Remy, I want to see you fuck him hard." Sirius made a high pitched whine of pure need, and Remus pulled his fingers away, causing Sirius to moan at the sudden emptiness.

Remus pulled Siri's hips sharply back towards him, pushing his top half forwards to position them so Sev could clearly see the moment when his cock breached the taut entrance. All three moaned simultaneously, Sev's hand flying over his prick as Remus slid slowly, firmly up into Sirius' deep heat, revelling in the feeling of those muscles grasping and relaxing on his shaft, the warm wetness engulfing him as he moved slowly, sensuously; pulling nearly all the way out before gliding in. Unlike earlier the frantic need to claim was lessened; this was all about prolonging their pleasure. 

Sirius' soft moans were breathtaking music to his ears. He'd wanted to have Sirius right here for so long, and while Severus had always set him on fire internally when they'd been near, he'd not shared a room with the Slytherin; not heard his moans as he'd wanked behind velvet curtains, not seen his arse glistening under shower spray or wiggling enticingly into just-tight-enough trousers for six years. This right here, pushing into his tight warmth, holding his leg up out of the way so Sev could see him being engulfed by Sirius' welcoming hole, was the stuff of a thousand fantasies, had been the mental landscape of countless wanks. The sight and sound of Sev coming apart watching them both risked tipping him over the edge, and the smell of his hot spunk exploding over his hand had him momentarily stilling so as not to come himself, not yet.

Sev opened his eyes to see Remus' dark gaze upon him, Sirius panting with desire, trying not to writhe. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen, the two sweat slicked firm bodies intertwined and panting, and while he'd been transfixed by their raw beauty, now his own need was sated he wanted to be with them, to touch, to taste. 

Remus' thoughts were clearly similar. "Want ... Taste...", he managed, unable to tear his eyes off the creamy spunk covering Severus' hand and glistening like pearls dotted through the fine sprinkling of dark hair on his chest. Dropping the wand on the bedside table, Sev moved up and on the bed towards them, offering his hand to the wolf, marvelling as his hot tongue lapped his come from his skin and Sirius' mouthed lightly at the cock so near his face. The head was too sensitive, but while he flinched away, he raised an eyebrow to Remus,who nodded. Sev kissed him, hungrily, savouring the taste of himself on the wolf's tongue, before moving apart with a sigh and beginning to kiss his way down Siri's side until his head nestled in his groin, his mouth perfectly in place to receive the heavy, rigid cock being thrust towards his lips as Remus pushed, more firmly, back into Sirius' arse.

Sirius thought he was going to explode. Remus was gliding over his prostate with every thrust, and it was like fireworks going off in his brain; and Oh gods, but Sev was just a born cock sucker, who knew? Remus was fucking him hard into Sev's mouth, and he was just taking it all, swallowing him down like he'd been bloody trained; that tongue firm against the underneath of his shaft, the suction so firm, his mouth so hot...it felt like flying, he was flying apart, and here it was, here it came, he was pumping his come down Sev's throat while Remus was hammering hard inside him, it was too much, it was - and he screamed as his orgasm tore out of him, unable to hold back his thrusts or his voice as he came as if white lightning were searing through him..

Severus rolled back, eyes closed and chest heaving, throat sore in the best way, savouring the salty sweet clean taste of Sirius. Remus was surging into Sirius still, fucking strong, hard strokes into him, chasing his own orgasm now and lost in the hot pleasure of the sensations overwhelming him. A deep thrust; he stiffened, and his orgasm pumped out of him, a groan of deepest pleasure torn from him as he poured his cum into his mate, a deep burning sensation on the centre of his shoulders going virtually unnoticed in the overwhelming rush of pleasure. Both Sev and Siri groaned simultaneously, heat flaming through their claiming bite marks, the wash of magic surging over them all and robbing them of consciousness where they lay.

It was dawn before they stirred, Remus slipping from Sirius' body while both the others opened their eyes to gaze on each other's cocks. Stiff bodies rearranged themselves, whispered cleansing spells charmed away drying stickiness; murmurs of love as they curled up together and pulled discarded covers back over themselves, the household slowly awakening. 

Little footsteps padded in, and a small hand tugged on Severus'. "Unca Sevvie? Hawy want up", a little voice announced. Opening his eyes to see a determined Draco before him, Severus groaned and summoned a dressing robe to him, standing and wrapping it around him in one fluid movement. Rather than going with him, Draco began trying to climb up on to the too-high bed, and as Sirius leaned forward to give him a hand, Remus got his first clear look at the mating Mark magic had blazed into his skin. It retained a suggestion of the bite, while clearly representing a crescent moon. The little boy flumped on top of the covers, and began explaining, in that self important way toddlers do, about 'Hawy' waking him up, and how he was 'helpin' Hawy by getting his Papa' .

He paused, and looked at the two men staring blearily at him. "Are you Hawy's Papas too?" he demanded. 

A deep voice came from the doorway, warm eyes glowing at them both. 

"Yes", said the man holding the black haired toddler. "Yes, we all are."


	18. Fragments

By the time Narcissa came down to the toy room the two toddlers had been fed, and were busy climbing all over 'Alpha' as he playfully romped and growled with them. Severus, working on his second cup of coffee, was standing watching them, wrapped in Sirius' arms, a smile lighting up his whole face. Sirius was not watching, his head turned in towards Severus's nape, murmuring sweet nothings into the dark curtain of hair. She stood for a while, just watching her oldest friend and her cousin, feeling the depth of their emotion even as a bystander.

It was hard to acknowledge, but she had never had that passion herself. She had been coolly affectionate with Lucius initially, but even though they had known each other since they were young children, the betrothal was an arrangement between Families, much as Bellatrix's had been with the LeStrange boy. There had been no love in either marriage. She had seen love grow within such couples, of course, but while Bellatrix and Rastaban were at least matched in temperament and compatible in preference, there had been no such felicity in her own marriage. 

The marriage had been engineered for one purpose only: to bring into the world the perfect, healthy and male heir. She suspected she, not Bellatrix or Andromeda, had been affianced to the Malfoy scion because she alone had the pure blonde hair the Black family threw out every other generation or so. Abraxas had an eye for colouring, and would have wanted the almost white-blond hair of his son to breed true. As the eldest, Bellatrix had the larger dowry, but the fabled wealth of the Malfoy family was no myth, and her financial charms had little interest for the Malfoy Patriarch. Her other charms had held little interest for Lucius either, which, after being in Slytherin with him for six years, had not come as a surprise. 

It was a little surprising he hadn't tried to seduce Sirius while they were schoolmates, but then there was very little positive interaction between Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses, and while that hadn't stopped liaisons in the past, Sirius had always displayed his colours openly while Lucius remained, spider like, lurking in the shadows. His own house had been fair game, and he had hunted freely within it. Only Purebloods, of course. While he admitted that Halfbloods like Severus had their uses, bedroom play was not one of them, and the only notice he paid to the unlucky Muggleborns that found themselves in Slytherin was to orchestrate, but not participate in, their torment.

It had been made clear to her on Abraxus' passing (and the timing of his 'dragon pox' coming four days after Lucius' 17th birthday had not escaped her), that while Lucius was prepared to honour the arrangement between their families, once the fabled Heir had been conceived all relations between them would cease. She had not inwardly been displeased. Her hostess talents had quickly become legendary, and they had made a fine matched set to host galas and parties for Lord Voldemort's various causes, which she privately admitted had probably kept her alive when Draco was weaned. The Golden Couple, as The Prophet called them, were a useful public fiction, but as the gaps in her personal timeline grew she began to fear that Lucius would soon aspire to hold the title of Wizarding Britain's Most Eligible Widower instead.

She didn't know what she had to offer Mycroft Holmes in terms of testimony. Naturally, her statement would link the two together as business acquaintances, for the parties she had co-hosted raised funds for his social causes and political ambitions, but the glamour Lucius wore over his left arm had never slipped, and she could not swear to it's having been the Dark Mark despite her intuition screaming it in her mind. The Dark Lord, as Lucius had her refer to him only as, had not to her knowledge ever been in her house, and she had only met him once herself, ironically at a Ministry Gala before the War had openly begun. Poor Merrilee had introduced them, albeit stiffly, and the conversation had been the usual Pureblood political zealotry.

Her attention was caught by the woman who came to stand next to her, nodding approvingly at the sight of Remus laughing as the toddlers covered him in soft toys. 

"Hard to believe that this time last week he was at death's door, isn't it?" Surprised, Narcissa cast an alarmed look over the man playing with the children, but he seemed perfectly healthy. The newcomer held out her hand. 'Jane Bardwell, Mind Healer at St Mungo's. You must be Lady Malfoy. Unspeakable Holmes has requested I look into your memory lapses with you. Gentlemen, glad to see you all so well. Do excuse us."

\------

Mycroft leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his lips. Thank Merlin and Morgana for idiots who thought they were clever. Lucius Malfoy had stood out, even as a first year to Mycroft's lofty seventh, as a cocksure little git, wearing the pride of his Name and Daddy's wealth like an impenetrable cloak that would shrug off all cares. He'd been relatively quick to grasp concepts, but discarded them as soon as he no longer saw their use, and while he'd proven in study hall that he could memorise facts provided in revision papers by others long enough to get through exams and tests, he was too taken up with his own self importance to have the true scholars' ability to retain and expand knowledge. In short, he confused cunning with intelligence, as so many did, and like so many others, it was about to catch up with him.

Obliviation was as much an art as it was a science. It was easy enough for any fool with a wand to call out 'obliviate', but without taking the time to overlay a new 'memory' over the old, all that happened was the memory was wiped, like a muggle videotape. New memories were laid down where the old one had stopped, so those with imperfect obliviations had blank sections in their memory. Their time unaccounted for, some went mad over time, disconnected from reality. The lucky ones were those with the intelligence to realise that something had been done to them, and the misfortune to know someone who might have done it. Like Narcissa Malfoy.

Lady Malfoy had sat, thin lipped, as her memories were restored to her, and had been more than willing for the returned memories to be decanted into Pensieve Phials for the Wizengamot. The number of times Voldemort had been in her home, openly mounting Bellatrix in front of them all while Lucius played with his catamites. The planning sessions between the three, plotting attacks against both Wizarding and Muggle public, while she had been forced to take notes. The many meetings of the Inner Circle in her own sitting room, ensuring scum like Dolohov and Rosier had enough Firewhisky. Oh, she was more than willing for those memories to be played on the large white wall of the Moot Chamber, if it meant her husband was damned to Azkaban - and with what she had unknowingly seen, he would have many companions.

Already he had received an official Department Commendation for offering her Sanctuary, not least because it had been on his own Name, leaving the Department free of any robust connection. Now the Trials were imminent, he needed to organise proxies to cast the votes held by Severus, Sirius and the youngest Lord, Harry, without drawing attention to their absence from the public eye, and in particular, from that of Dumbledore. While Narcissa could not vote on her own husbands guilt or innocence, the votes she would hopefully be able to wield on her son's behalf, if all went to plan, might be needed if Dumbledore decided to tamper.

He neatly sent the reports from Dr Bardwell and the Wizangamot Chief Prosecutor to their correct folders, then stepped through the Floo, calling out "Holmes Grove" firmly. He and Sherrinford had evacuation plans to set in place.

\--------

What looked like a tumbledown woodsman's hut deep within the Black Forest was actually fairly decent inside. It was one of Bellatrix' favourite hideaways for hunting. It was always so amusing to see her prey floundering through the forest, completely out of their comfort zones whether they were wizard or muggle. Screams could roll around the sunken valleys beautifully, many miles away from any who would help, and there was nothing sweeter than the games she would play with her Lord while giving the hunted the head start she always promised.

Which was why she was in such a toweringly foul mood when she stalked into their bedroom to find that disgusting rat Pettigrew, sleeping in her bed. Only the knowledge that he was regretfully necessary to her saved his wretched life, and her Lord was not around to stay her hand from the repeated Cruciatus he deserved. 

The twitching made him look even more like a rat.

He readily gave her the locations of the few safe houses in Britain she had not already known of. Hopefully there would be enough refugees from the Samhain Cull debacle to be able to regroup and start locating the Dark Lord's essence. The Minister's funeral was going to be impossible to hit as planned, but some of the secondary targets might still be feasible, and if Sirius was able to come out of hiding in plain sight, they could thrash out some alternate strategies to be visible by Solstice. At least deep in the Department Of Mysteries he'd have access to useful intelligence, and the Black townhouse would make an acceptable Headquarters now Malfoy Manor was shut down.

Returning to Britain was crucial. There were always rats around Azkaban, so one more or less wouldn't stand out, and would be very useful at passing information in and out. She also needed to have a little talk with her sister. And there was plenty of unfinished business she could occupy herself with once they'd regrouped a little; objectives that hadn't been completed, trials to disrupt, Wizengamot members to coerce. Busy, busy Bellatrix. Always so much to do...

\--------

"I can't take him, Augusta. You must see a crusty old bachelor has no business raising a child. I'm sure it will only be for a little time..."

"Balderdash, Algie. Complete cobblers. You're twelve years younger than I am, and a man who has energy to chase after barmaids has enough energy to deal with a toddler. See sense, man! Frank and Alice aren't going to get better, ever, and if he stays with me I can't go after the bitch that did this."

"Augusta, as much as I had no intention of inflicting myself on a child, I have even less of having one inflicted on me, by you or the Ministry. Face it, the kid's a squib. If you're that desperate to track the LeStrange woman down, hand him off to the Ministry for raising in the Muggle world."

Augusta Longbottom glared at her brother. "This Family has survived Squib Heirs before, and will again, Algernon Longbottom, and the Family Magics recognised him as heir regardless of how large his core might be. I will not ship him off like the Parkinson's do! If you will not take him, then you can hunt down the LeStrange woman yourself - if she doesn't come after the rest of us first! Don't think I'll forget this, brother."

\---------

Sherlock slung his duffel bag into the corner of the Grove's library and folded his lanky legs into his favourite chair, his back on the floor. More than used to his little brother's eccentric habits Mycroft didn't even twitch his copy of the Evening Staff. 

"Bored", announced Sherlock.

"Well, of course you are. You've been home at least five minutes. Announced yourself to Sherrinford?" drawled Mycroft.

Sherlock gestured airily. "He knows, he always does. You've filled Trewissick up with waifs and strays again. Place smells like small children and wet dogs. And Cousin Severus. Who also smells of wet dog. Odd. You need to give me something to do, Mycroft; I have two weeks stretching out before me and I am bored already."

Mycroft lowered the paper and looked closely at his brother, assessing him carefully. A bored Sherlock was a troublesome thing, unless he could be focused. Give him an open-ended task, and he was a genius at giving you more than you asked for; leave him to his own devices and he'd either blow up half of Shropshire, or need wringing out and restraining as he came down from whatever ridiculous potion he'd come up with this time just to be able to think at 'normal' speed. He was just marking time at Hogwarts with his Charms Mastery, having taken his NEWTS at thirteen, and Flitwick was despairing of his ability to keep him occupied until his 17th birthday.

The boy needed a project. Luckily, Mycroft had just the solution. Developing and maintaining an information network in both the Wizard and Muggle worlds should be enough to keep Sherlock busy, and Merlin knew he could always find a use for it. It might even keep him at school another few months. One could always hope, anyway. Leaning forward in his chair, the paper discarded, he began to lay out his idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are, as ever, most welcome :) I hope you are enjoying the ride!


	19. Control

The trials of both Severus and Sirius were sealed to the Wizengamot early in the day, thanks to some elegant manipulation, and Dumbledore had been caught off guard. Locked outside the chamber while they, and other agents deemed too sensitive to expose, were dealt with, he could clearly be heard raging in a manner most unlike his usual benevolent self-image. Sadly the Press were also kept far away from the Courtroom, and so was missed a wonderful opportunity to tarnish his image, but some things were more important. These cases needed to be heard and sealed under Goblin Fidelius before the majority of the Members could be allowed in.

In the cases of Magic v Snape and Magic v Black, the Letters of Authorisation were enough to vacate all charges of Belonging To and Working For a Terrorist Organisation and of Treason To Her Majesty's Wizarding Nation. For their roles undercover the two men found themselves the recipient each of an Order Of Merlin, First Class; however these were also recorded under Fidelius. The generous stipend, however went straight into their vaults, leaving Severus, at least, financially secure for the first time in his life. Letters of Commendation were lastly entered into their Service record, and Severus wept in gratitude as the final layers of the Dark Mark were dissolved from his skin by Breaker Gracklewrat. The blood he now shared with his bond mates, blood that circulated through Harry's veins and Sirius' Mark, would maintain and augment the child's protection, while any werewolf blood linked to Remus would similarly be unable to physically harm him. While Lily's sacrifice had undoubtedly protected Harry from harm, only those involved in the adoption knew that the ritual had already ensured any direct physical attack Voldemort attempted on him could not kill him. The inadvertent Horcrux would not do so either, although potentially it could still cause horrendous mental and emotional harm if left alone. 

Sirius, of course, had opted to retain his Mark both for this reason and to enable reinsertion should Voldemort be restored, but Griselda Marchbanks, the Chief Witch of the Wizengamot, saw fit to award him permanent use of an elf stone, planted under his skin, to anchor a deeper glamour. By 7:30 am the files were sealed and in Goblin hands, and the two wizards flooed out of the Chamber.

The Moot Doors were ceremoniously opened, and a coldly furious Dumbledore stalked in, robes swirling, to gaze in suspicion at the empty Hall. By 8:15am the seats in the Chamber were unusually filled, and the mood was grim. All wands had been Limited in recognition of the high tempers in the room, and Dark Detectors were active throughout the room and outside all outer walls.

At the central podium, the Ministry's Senior Interrogator Bartemious Crouch paced back and forth, his face like thunder. A hard man, Crouch was evidence to all that 'Light' was not synonymous with 'likeable'; he had refused to be recused when his son was brought in with the LeStrange brothers, though his wife was reportedly in St Mungo's under sedation. No-one envied him his role.

The Chief Witch of the Wizengamot filed in, accompanied by the Goblin Recorder and the two Elders of the Wizengamot. Below their seats the Interrogators took their places, and the Moot Doors were sealed. 

The Accusation Chair rose from the floor, a chained Lucius Malfoy imprisoned firmly within. A murmur rippled through the room at the sight of the usually impeccable Malfoy, clearly wearing the clothes he was taken captive in, and there were a couple of quickly suppressed cries of 'shame' from the back of the room. Behind the chair, and out of his eyeline, sat Narcissa Malfoy, her back held as rigid as his. The Wizangamot Pensieve shimmered into place, and the first Interrogator stepped forward.

"This document submitted under Oath contends that Lucius Malfoy has been held under the Imperius Curse for two years, covering the period he claims to have been falsely inducted into the Order of Death Eaters, a banned Terrorist Organisation. As such Lord Malfoy requests of the Wizengamot that all charges pertaining to his activities while controlled by persons unknown should be discharged, and that in recognition of his stain-free honour, he be allowed to resume his affairs in perfect Liberty. Lord Malfoy also wishes to make reparations in the amount of One Hundred Thousand Galleons to redress any ills done without his knowledge or consent."

The file was entered into the record, and passed to the Elders and Chief Witch Marchbanks for their inspection. Dumbledore signalled to be heard.

"Chief Marchbanks, Elders, Members; I would like to propose that, given the gravity of the offences to be heard in these trials, that the use of Veritaserum be mandated for all accused and Witnesses."

There was consternation in the Chamber. 

"Objection!", snapped Interrogator Parkinson. "The chair is spelled to compel truth!"

"But not", replied Dumbledore, "infallibly so. A skilled Occlumens such as myself could well evade a Compulsion charm of considerable strength, as I proved before Elders Ogden and Doge yesterday evening. They have agreed to make Pensieve records of the event available to the Wizengamot today in furtherance of this discussion."

A heated debate followed, after which the Pensieve Memories, in which the two Elders had clearly seen Albus Dumbledore sat in the Accusation Chair, calmly claiming to be a purple chicken named Godfrey, were displayed on the Chamber wall. The vote to use Veritaserum was passed smoothly after this, and Lucius clearly sagged in his chair.

The Veritaserum was administered. Crouch stepped forward, eyes fixed upon the prisoner, clearly prepared to make the most of the opportunity. Lucius' identity was quickly established, and preliminary questions revealed his current address, House status, and, unsurprisingly to Narcissa, his perception of her as a brood-mare come to the end of her usefulness, a statement that garnered her sympathetic looks from many of the Wizengamot members as she held her head up proudly and calmly.

 

"Are you a follower of the self-styled Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes"

A knock of the gavel quelled the rising murmurs from the Wizengamot.

"Do you have the Dark Mark?"

"Yes."

The clipped answers showed Lucius was fighting the Veritaserum, and two more drops were administered.

"Have you participated in Death Eater activities?"

"Of course, when my Lord asked it of me"

"What activities would you participate in on a typical raid?"

"It would depend on the situation. Generally I would lead a team on a raid, in which we were usually there to murder certain individuals, or torture, maim and rape for intimidation purposes. Other raids were to initiate new recruits by leading them on a muggle hunt."

"Please explain what was involved in a 'muggle hunt' for the Wizengamot"

"Each new recruit had to kidnap, torture, rape and kill a muggle for their initiation ritual. Except Snape, of course. He just had to watch. The hunt was to have each recruit obtain a muggle to their liking. We would apparate into a muggle area and attack random houses or businesses until we got what we needed. We would kill the ones we didn't take and fire the Dark Mark above their heads"

"Were there similar initiations at different levels?"

"There were two different initiations. To celebrate being chosen for the Inner Circle, the honouree could choose a Blood traitor or Mudblood target family. We would not fire the Dark Mark on these occasions in order to cause additional panic amongst our kind. The target would be brought to base and used as practice for Dark curses. We would compete to find new curses for each event."

"How many men, women or children did you, personally, torment or kill?"

"Other than the muggle at my initiation and the Levanwick family for the inner circle, I would estimate between five to ten kills per raid, and estimate that I attended twenty six raids. I would need my journals to recall precise numbers."

The Wizengamot chamber was entirely silent, and even Crouch seemed to be under a silencing spell; opening his mouth and closing it again. Lucius remained still in the chair, looking almost bored, as he had while calmly revealing atrocity after atrocity. The murder of the Levanwick family had taken place three years earlier, and the ferocity that had attended their deaths had lead to the belief that the family had fallen foul of Dark creatures. The deaths had been used to justify anti Were and Vampire legislation, sponsored by the very Wizard who had just confessed to their murder.

Chief Marchbanks rapped her gavel loudly in the stunned silence. "The Bench has heard enough from the witness at this time, and grants permission for the relevant authorities to use Veritaserum to obtain further information, with respect to Wizarding Law, once this session is closed. It is the finding of the Wizengamot Elders that the Accused has confessed to the charges laid before this court, and accordingly as Chief of the Wizengamot I pronounce the Accused guilty of murder, rape, kidnap and torture; of belonging to a terrorist organisation; of treason to his House, Name, and Magic. I hereby strip the Convicted of his House and Name, and order his Magic to be drained and blocked and his wand snapped and burnt."

Her gaze swept the ranks of witches and wizards before her. "We now come to decide his fate. Lady Malfoy, you are unable to participate in this vote by reason of your House, however this Court would like to thank you for your freely given assistance and confirm you as Regent for Lord Draco Malfoy." 

There was an inarticulate scream of rage from Lucius at this, and he struggled in a futile attempt to rise from the Chair. Frustrated by the chains wrapping around his body, he sank back, but called out in a surprisingly clear voice "I hereby renounce my marriage to Narcissa Black and the child born of that marriage is declared outcast from the House of Malfoy."

Narcissa paled, but Chief Marchbanks continued as though nothing had been said. "As with all cases involving crimes of this magnitude, the sentence is either Death by the Veil, the Dementors' Kiss, or Life Imprisonment in Azkaban. The decision rests in your hands. If you are voting for Death by the Veil, please cast a red Lumos. For the Dementors' Kiss, please cast a blue Lumos, and for Life Imprisonment please cast a White Lumos. The spell can only be cast once, and the will of the Wizengamot shall be final."

Slowly, the chamber began to glow as, one by one, wands lit throughout the chamber.

"A consensus has been reached."


	20. Respect And Honour

Ragnok, Director of the London branch of Gringotts, was the clan Chieftain of the various tribes of Goblins that lived under Gringotts and was rarely seen on the marble floors of the Bank. To most humans, one goblin looked much like another, and they took little notice individually of the people who looked after their treasures, be they gold, artifacts or secrets. Most barely thought of goblins at all, let alone as people. Then again, to goblins, most humans were little more than sheep. They treasured their relationships with the few who actually looked at them with respect fiercely. The very few who were accounted Clan Friends found themselves in a select group more difficult to access than the Order of Merlin. The fact that Ragnok himself was waiting by the doors for the attendees of the Potter will reading would have escaped none of the Clan Friends as being a singular honour.

 

Ushered through the gleaming gold doors at the rear of the marble halls, the family was shown into the Director's own office, where both Mycroft and Severus surprised the others greatly by dropping to their knees and embracing Ragnok fiercely. The stunned expression on both Narcissa and Sirius' faces obviously tickled the Head Goblin's sense of humour, and he doubled up with harsh laughter as Severus wryly passed him a handkerchief to mop his streaming eyes. 

 

Sirius couldn't decide if he was more surprised that a goblin should willingly embrace a human, or that Mycroft would willingly embrace anyone at all, but the fact that his partner was clearly familiar with Director Ragnok could only be reassuring. He waited for the chortling goblin to recover his composure, and bowed deeply as Severus introduced his bond-mates, Narcissa and the two toddlers. He was further stunned when not only did Ragnok open his arms in invitation to the two children, Harry and Draco both toddled straight to the goblin and happily allowed themselves to be swept up in his arms. As Narcissa performed her own deep curtsy of respect, the Director sat himself in his chair, a child on each knee, and gestured for them all to sit. 

 

"So, today we will find out what this little one's", and he nuzzled Harry's head as Harry giggled, "other parents wanted for him and their House. In accordance with Gringotts policy, the accounts were frozen on notification by the Ministry of their deaths. However, you should know that an attempt was made to access the Potter Artifact Vault this morning, with the individual in question presenting Lord Potter's key with a letter dated five years ago granting permission. The attempt was refused and the key retained, as the letter was written before Lord Potter had attained his majority and therefore did not have the legal authority to grant said permission."

 

"Are you able to let us know who made the attempt?"asked Severus, worriedly. 

 

"Headmaster Dumbledore. He claimed Lord Potter had authorised him to obtain a certain cloak as and when he wished, for research purposes. He was not best pleased, and stated that Lord Potter had assured him that it would be granted him in his will. However, the Headmaster is not listed as a beneficiary in the last will lodged with Gringotts five weeks ago."

 

Sirius scowled. "I would place hard galleons on him wanting James' invisibility cloak. He tried to confiscate it in our last year - James hadn't realised it showed his feet after a growth spurt and got caught by McGonagal. James' dad said it was a family heirloom though, and took it back to the Manor. James was in detention for a week because of that and Dumbledore was furious."

 

Severus sighed. "Of course he had an invisibility cloak. Why he didn't keep it at home where it might be useful in case deranged lunatics came to call..."

 

Remus shook his head. "He didn't know where it was. Lord Potter refused to give it back till he'd grown up, or reached 25, whichever was soonest. Not the first time he'd confiscated things like that off James either - the Map should be in the lock box too. Um, we'll tell you about the map later, Sev..."

 

Ragnok chuckled at Severus as he groaned and put his head in his hands. He turned to look at Narcissa then, and his tone grew formal. "Lady Malfoy, I am honoured to see you in such company. While you are not listed as a Potter beneficiary it is, of course, a public reading, which you may attend if you wish. However, you and your little Lord here tripped curse wards in the Main Hall. We find it expedient to know if our clients are acting under certain influences, such as the Dark Mark Lord Black is afflicted with, or certain compulsions, bonds and so on. For the most part, we just make notes for our own records in case of subsequent actions questioning transactions, but given your current situation, I wish to offer the services of our curse breakers for both you and Lord Malfoy."

 

Narcissa was pale and trembling, but looked Ragnok in the eyes."Director Ragnok, I thank you for your offer, and would gratefully accept, if not for the fact that Lord Lucius Malfoy renounced both our marriage and our son before being sentenced to Azkaban. I fear that we..." She was cut off by Ragnok raising his hand to stop her going forward. "Forgive me for interrupting you, Lady Malfoy, but the Chief of the Wizengamot proclaimed Lucius Nameless to be stripped of his Name, House and Magic before the question of Life, Death or Undeath was put to the Wizengamot chamber. As such, Magic recognises him from that moment as Lucius Nameless , and the Malfoy title and House passed to your son. The former Lord Malfoy had no authority to renounce your marriage, nor to disown Lord Draco. You may, of course, divorce the former Lord Malfoy without penalty to you under the terms of your Marriage Contract, which would revert your dowry to your maiden House plus any financial penalties agreed upon for his breaching your agreement. However, Magic, and Gringotts, recognises you as Lady Malfoy, Regent of the House of Malfoy and Sole Custodian of Lord Draco Malfoy until he reaches the age of majority."

 

Narcissa bowed her head in gratitude and sheer relief. Her voice wavered slightly as she looked toward Sirius. "Lord Black, I wish to inform you of my intent to divorce Lucius Nameless due to his breach of contract with the Black family. I wish to take the name Malfoy-Black, to signify my rapprochement with my family while raising my son to take up his responsibility to the House of Malfoy, and willingly accept your offer to allow me to return to the House of Black under your protection. I acknowledge you as Lord Black, and hereby align the House of Malfoy to Houses Black, Potter, and Holmes-Prince, repudiating all former affiliations or House Contracts of the House of Malfoy. Lord Holmes, as Lady Malfoy-Black I affirm my request for Sanctuary under your Name and House for myself and my son. I also hereby authorise Lord Holmes, in his role for the Department of Mysteries, to initiate a search of Malfoy Manor for any Dark Artifacts in the possession of my family, and to have them removed to the Department for analysis and, if necessary, destruction."

 

Mycroft acknowledged her with a tight bow, and turned to Ragnok. "Director, I would like to have it recorded that Lord Draco Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy-Black are under my direct protection and, as she has sworn fealty to me on their behalf, so do I swear loyalty to them by my Name, House and Blood. House Holmes-Prince accepts and returns affiliation with House Malfoy, and aligns itself with Houses Potter and Black. Also, as the Line of Prince now has a clear Heir in the person of Severus Tobias Potter-Lupin-Black Snape, and his son and Heir Harry Evan James Potter-Snape Prince, as the Head of House Holmes-Prince I declare that while the Houses stand united in loyalty and Blood, House Prince is now once again extant in itself, with Severus recognised as Lord Prince. Lord Prince, the House of Prince represents three seats in the Wizengamot, which now are under your control. All affiliations to House Holmes-Prince are retained by House Prince at your discretion.

 

Severus looked completely pole-axed, while Sirius and Remus were grinning at their mate's good fortune. The smile on the Chief Goblin's face was feral, but the children bouncing on his lap showed no fear as they laughed and cooed at everyone in the room. Draco was tugging on Ragnok's right ear quite happily, and, more surprisingly, the Director seemed quite happy with the situation.

 

"I may as well join in the fun and games," said Sirius contentedly. "As I have been fortunate enough to bond with Lord Prince and Remus Black-Snape Lupin, I would like to record our bond formally with Gringotts, and offer them both the title of Lord Consort of the House Of Black, with the vaults they own recognised with all the rights accorded to Consort Vaults applied. I also recognise Lord Potter as Heir Presumptive to the House Of Black, and align House Black to the Houses of Prince, Holmes and Malfoy, with the Houses of Malfoy, Prince, and Potter falling under the Protection of the House of Black. There you go, Remus, you are now Lord Lupin-Black, while you get to be Lord Prince-Black, Sev."

 

The other men simply shook their heads, laughing. "This is just crazy. I can't believe business actually gets done like this!" exclaimed Remus. Ragnok chuckled. "Power transfer amongst the Ancient and Noble Houses is usually even more simple, when you think of it. The old Lord dies, the next Lord takes his place instantly. The rest is just paperwork. Formal attestation in front of a Scribe of Record, which, in this case, is me, and two peer witnesses, which is more than covered here, is all that is needed to do most formal House business, and nothing here is out of the ordinary, except, perhaps, that there was quite a lot of business achieved in a short amount of time. Now, Lady Malfoy-Black, the offer is open, if you would like to make use of our curse-breakers?" 

 

Narcissa rose, and gracefully curtsied to Ragnok. "Director, I would like to name you Friend of House Malfoy. Know that my home and House are open to you, and I hope that together our profits will increase, our gold flow and our enemies break before us. I accept your offer, and announce that we are in your debt, and House Malfoy acknowledges a favour of your choice owed to you."

 

Ragnok beamed at the traditional words, and pressed a button on his desk. Instantly Cursebreaker Gracklewrat apparated into the room, and after a brief introduction and discussion, led Narcissa and Draco out of the room.

 

"As there are other beneficiaries scheduled to arrive shortly, please follow me to the Will Reading Room. The will reading has to be public, but let me assure you that we will have guards throughout the room, and a Wand Inhibitor Ward is in effect on the room. Furthermore, any acts of violence in the bank will invoke penalty clauses on the perpetrators' vaults and banking capabilities, of which everyone will be made aware. Lastly, the room is under Fidelius, and attendees are unable to speak or write of the identity of fellow attendees, or details of private bequests except to each other. Details of public bequests are, of course, published in the required newspapers as is the norm."

 

They walked through the bank to the imposing Reading room where the wills of Ancient and Noble Houses were traditionally heard. There were already a few people in the room; Dumbledore conspicuous by his garish purple and gold robes and hat, Augusta Longbottom, her lips taut and an annoyed expression on her face; Molly and Arthur Weasley, looking sad and drained of all energy. Two house elves, both bearing the Potter crest on their smartly pressed tea towels, sat at the back. While Mycroft drifted to the back of the room, the family moved towards the front of the seats, as far from Dumbledore as they could manage, but were intercepted by the twinkly eyed wizard before they reached their seats.

 

"I am profoundly relieved to see our Boy Saviour is safe, but I must admit to being concerned that you kidnapped him from his home, Severus. I would have advised most strongly against it, dear boy, most strongly. Still, the damage is done, and now we must do what we can to lessen the impact. I will take Harry to his relatives when we are done here, and be certain I will speak on your behalf at the trial, Severus. All is not lost; I do, luckily, have influence with the Wizengamot. I will wager they will accept house arrest at Hogwarts, if you resume your Potions post of course, what with this being out of character for you." 

 

He reached out to take Harry, who shrank back against Severus, bursting into tears. "Come on now, Harry!" he boomed cheerfully. Remus growled low in his stomach, and Sirius swiftly put himself between Dumbledore's and his mates. "Headmaster, I believe you have misinterpreted the situation, and I advise you to sit down, away from Harry and Lupin, until you have heard where Lily and James intended Harry to live."

 

Dumbledore sighed. "As you insist, Sirius, though you are unwise to meddle in this -I am quite certain you of all people do not know the full story. However, if it will speed up getting Harry to where he belongs..." He shrugged, and took a seat, non-coincidentally between the Triad and the door. Sirius caught the darkly amused eyes of Mycroft and raised a careful eyebrow, before taking his seat next to Severus and Harry, with Remus on the other side, pressed up against Severus so he could take comfort from the bond.

 

Ragnok entered the room then, levitating two glowing spheres ahead of him as he walked to the central table, flanked by two stone podiums. He carefully manipulated the spheres' levitation until one rested on each plinth. He clapped his hands once together in ritual, and intoned "We are gathered together to hear the last intentions of James Charlus Potter and Lily Evans Potter. We meet in peace and depart in peace, in accordance with Wizarding Law. We give thanks for the lives of James and Lily, and send them our blessings for their safe journey to the next home. So mote it be."

 

"So mote it be", came the chorus. 

 

"We will hear the will of James Charlus Potter first, as his was the first to become activated by death." Ragnok announced. "Please be silent until after the will has been read."

 

He gestured towards the globe on his left, and it shimmered, forming a golden glow over the podium stand as tall as a man, which resolved itself into a golden hazy image of James leaning against a tree in the cottage back garden, shirtsleeves rolled up in the late autumn sunshine just a few weeks gone past. Sirius swallowed hard at the sight of the man he'd regarded as his brother, while on Severus' lap Harry's murmur of "Dada" could clearly be heard in the hushed room.

 

"Well, arse," James said, looking as if he was looking around the room. "Looks like I'm dead then. Sorry about this. Someone cuddle Lily and Harry for me, and love, I'm sorry about this. Especially if you are also dead, in which case I feel like a total wanker for not protecting you. I refuse to think Harry might be dead, so if you're watching this, Harry, Daddy loves you, and I'm sorry I can't be there for you any more. I'll always watch over you; listen to your Papa and your Wolfie, and remember to light our candles at Samhain and Yule, ok? And don't believe everything your Uncle Padfoot says."

 

"Ok, then. Last Will and Testament stuff. Heavy. Severus Snape, where are you? Ok, there you are. I hope. Couple of things to say here. I will never regret Lily and I bonding with you, but we aren't your life-bond mates, and if Remus hasn't done something about that by now I'm going to haunt him till he does. Having said that, I love you like a brother; if I'm honest, a little more than that, in an honest-I'm-straight-but-you-make-me-wonder kind of way. Don't start growling, Moony, he's yours, I respect that. Sirius might not, but I do. Aha! Didn't think we'd noticed, did you Siri? Mwahahaha! Seriously, sort it out, fellas, the UST in our kitchen was melting the tiles off the wall."

 

"Lily's making rude gestures at me, but Merlin, if you can't take the piss in your own will sphere, when can you? Anyway, back to the serious stuff. On either one of your laps, I'm guessing Sev's, is Lord Harry Evans James Potter-Snape Prince. That's a mouthful that might come as a bit of a shock to some of you, by which I mean Hello Albus! Lily and I not only freely bonded with Severus Tobias Snape of House Holmes-Prince, but we suggested, insisted and freely took part in his blood-adoption of Harry. This was kept secret under Gringotts Fidelius, and I now authorise Director Ragnok or Account Manager Griphook to announce this through the Wizarding press." At this a goblin slipped out of the room, to be replaced by another almost instantly.

 

"Custody of our son Harry therefore passes to his second father, Severus Tobius Snape. In the event of his death custody will be retained by Lord Sirius Black. In the event of his death custody will pass to Remus John Lupin. In the event of his death custody will pass to Lord Mycroft Holmes of House Holmes-Prince. In the event of his death, custody will pass to Sherrinford Holmes of House Holmes-Prince. In the event of his death custody will pass to Sherlock Holmes of House Holmes-Prince. In the event of his death custody would pass to Alice and Frank Longbottom, Andromeda Tonks - basically I could do this all day. The point being that in no case will Harry be allowed to be placed with Petunia Dursley née Evans or Vernon Dursley. While they may be Lily's family in blood, they have renounced both Lily and Harry and have made it clear that they loathe and detest both magic and magic users. They are misogynistic, homophobic, sanctimonious muggles, and we would rather Harry be brought up by our truly excellent house elves Tweedie and Pickle before them. Should by some incredible chance three Houses fall before Harry reaches 17 he is to be made a Ministry Ward under the supervision of Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody, who between them should be able to protect him from pretty much anything. This too can be made known publicly." Another exchange of goblins subtly took place.

 

"Albus Dumbledore, while I respect you as a great Headmaster and the man who brought down Grindelwald, as well as he who has the most commonly found chocolate frog card, we do not wish for you to have guardianship over Harry. We both feel that you are manipulating people, and we had become uncomfortable with your direction of the Order long before your obsession with Harry and the Prophecy. Neither of us believe in the prophecy, which was overheard by Severus, who rushed straight to us and the Department of Mysteries to inform us. You taught us to be extremely sceptical of anything that claimed to predict the future, stating we all shaped our own fate. Why are you so convinced it is true? And why did you not tell us, your friends, what it said? We just wish we had been able to ask you this in person. We would like to ask this of you now, through the Daily Prophet." Again, goblins came and went from the room. 

 

"Severus, as Regent of House Potter, you have access to and control of all of our property, save those bequests we are about to make. I would like to ask that you work with Sirius and Griphook with this, as I know you don't have experience of this and they do. The goblins will provide you with a Fidelius list of properties. Brace yourself, love, the Potters have been around a long time. Once all the Regenting is done, there are two properties that will be in your name on that list. You can access them at any time, of course, but when Harry turns 17, they are yours. Until then, make do with vault 2231. Lily, if she made it, obviously is Harry's mother and the Dowager Lady Potter, and as such is entitled to anything she bloody wants. There's a letter from both of us in your new vault."

 

"Remus, my father went shopping for you a little before he died, and while the paperwork hadn't been finished by then, it is now. This was meant to be a 25th birthday present, so we are cheating Dad a bit by giving you it now, but I am sure he won't mind. There's a little island off the coast of Scotland with a sturdy little cabin, a small patch of woodland, and a fuckton of rabbits. Wish I had time to tell you the story of how we got a fuckton of rabbits to an unplottable Island, but I guess that will wait till we see you again. There's another island in another part of the world, but I'll leave that till you see your letter. Run free. You also now have vault 2232."

 

"Sirius, there's no point in giving you a vault, as you already have most of Gringotts'. There's a trunk with your name on it, which has all my photos, journals, knicknacks, quidditch gear, some stuffed animals you might recognise, some favourite books, memory phials. Like no one else, you know the stories attached to each of them. I'd be honoured if you would share them with Harry and the others. Let him know what I was like. The good and the bad. Don't let him think of me as some gilded hero, but as a boy who grew up, with you, to become his dad. In the trunk there's a letter for you. I love you, Padfoot."

 

"Frank, Alice and Neville, I'm sorry I or both of us turned out to be such lousy godparents as to get ourselves killed. I can't really make that up to Neville, but as Lord Potter I wish to formally align our two Houses so that House Longbottom can call on our protection when needed. Sev, Harry, I expect you to honour this on our behalf. Vault 2233 has been set aside for Neville, and I hope that he and Harry have the chance to build a strong friendship. Alice, thank you for being my wife's big sister; effectively; you made up for the lousy one she was saddled with. Frank, you mentored me through school and Auror training and never once turned me into a toad. Vault 2234 is yours, with my thanks."

 

"Arthur and Molly. Your kids are adorable, and I hope Harry grows up with them in his life. You've been good friends to us in the past few years, and I'm sorry that I'm not around to introduce Arthur to muggle whiskeys. I hope that you will consent to bond with one of the Potter house-elves. Priddy was my nanny elf, and is always on at us to have more kids. As we can't do her bidding I'd love to think of her immersed with your brood. Vault 2235 is yours. Consider it Yule gifts for the future from us, but use it however you like."

 

"Finally, Tweedie, Pickle and the Potter Estate House-Elves. You have all been excellent elves during my childhood and my time as Lord Potter. My will is for you to bond with Lord Harry, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black as your new family, and remain with them as directed. If any elf wishes to bond to another family to follow partners or children, I release you as desired but know you may also return or bring your mates into our family. This might not occur to your new Lords, so I hereby grant permission for bonding and pregnancy to be at your own discretion until Lord Harry is of age. Any elves wishing to retire before that time may do so, and the elf residence in Great Addington is to be maintained for this purpose. The health account at St Mungo's Elf Division will be paid from the main Potter expenses vault on the same basis as before. Lord Harry and Severus Snape may change your uniforms, which will not be considered clothes. Thank you all for your service."

 

"I think that's everything, guys. I'll miss you all, but I want to see you all happy before we meet again, particularly you, Harry. Live long, purposeful lives filled with joy and love. Marry who you will, don't worry about gender or blood or creature status or any of that rot. Sev, I'll leave Harry's schooling up to you. I know you'll do the best for our son, and I couldn't think of anyone I'd be content to leave him with than you and those two reprobates. Moony, I love you. You've been an incredible brother to me, and Harry loves you so. Be Happy. Padfoot, look after them. You know how I feel about certain people -don't let them in. Protect Sev and Remus; they sometimes think they have to bear the world on their shoulders. You and I always wanted to help them with that, so lads, you'd better let him. You are my heart-brother. Don't get yourself killed doing something stupid, but stick to my boy and my brothers like glue. I love you too. Oh, and Sev totally needs a club name. Make it a good one. I love you most, Harry. Look after your Papa and Uncles for me, and I'll see you in your dreams."

 

There was a hush in the room as the golden image dwindled and winked out, leaving the sphere behind, now having the appearance of being sealed in a glass ball with the date the will was made and the date it was 'read' into the Gringotts and House records. Ragnok eyed the room to see if there were any responses, but though Dumbledore appeared puce with suppressed rage, he was, for the moment silent, so Ragnok activated the second sphere. The image of Lily grew out of the golden light, and Severus choked back a sob.

 

"Hi there, and welcome to The Last Will and Testament of Lily Evans Potter. I hereby consent to this Will being published in it's entirety. I'm hoping like hell that James is sitting there with Harry, surrounded by inlaws and grandchildren and bond mates and all kinds of cool things like that, but I'm making this in the middle of Voldemort's own special brand of hell, so my guess is James and I went at the same time. If that's the case, Harry, know that we are together, that we are watching you grow, and that we love you."

 

"Regarding Harry's custody, if James did not survive then I whole-heartedly agree with, endorse and back one hundred percent the custodial decisions laid out in his will dated 28th September 1981, which we worked on together. In no circumstances is Harry to be placed with my birth sister Petunia Dursley née Evans, nor her repellent husband Vernon Dursley. I wish for them to have no contact with Harry whatsoever. Petunia has been a vile sister, told her inlaws we all died in the same car crash that killed my parents and hates magic. She is also too quick with her hands and her husband is a thug. I also have grave concerns about Albus Dumbledore's repeated attempts to have us stay with the Dursleys and his requests for us to nominate them as Harry's guardian. I say to you now, Headmaster, that I will not allow the Dursleys or you to dominate or even be a part of Harry's childhood."

 

"I also concur with James that Severus can choose for himself where and how Harry is schooled, as is our right under Wizarding law. Quite apart from anything else, for someone who speaks so fulsomely of Muggles, the Muggle Studies provision at Hogwarts is archaic and often wrong, as I attempted to highlight as Head Girl, and there is no introduction to Wizarding culture at all provided for incoming students. I do not feel the curriculum at Hogwarts is currently balanced or rounded enough to benefit leaving students, and that this is reflected in the low level of Apprenticeships offered compared to Beaubaxtons or Salem, to name but two off the top of my head. God, that feels good to get off my chest."

 

"I'm afraid that I don't have much personally to pass along. I don't have an inheritance of my own to pass along, nor do I come from an Ancient or Noble house, being as how my grandfather was a squaddie and my grandmother a cleaner. I have traced out a family tree for Harry, so you have an idea of where you come from, and there are a few trinkets for you in a box in my own vault, along with some photos. My dad would have liked for you to have had his watch when you are 17, and my mother's jewellery is in a little silver casket, in case you have a wife or daughter or stepsister you want to give it to. I've also put my favourite teddy from when I was little in there. It doesn't move or talk, I'm afraid, but he's very good to cuddle at night."

 

"James, I'd like you to keep my wedding ring. Don't bury me with it unless you are being buried with me. Keep what you most need to remind you of me, but know that you always will have my love."

 

"Sev, one of the happiest days of my life was when you bonded with James and myself, and blood adopted Harry. I am so glad you are his parent. I love and trust you absolutely, and have complete faith that you will raise Harry to be the best person he can be, and fight for him if needed. There is a trunk in my vault for you. James charmed the record player to run in the Manor and anywhere else, and I want to introduce Harry to all our favourites. Play him Harry Nilsson for me so he knows where his name came from, and tell him about wet Sunday afternoons in Cokeworth learning all the words to Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and The Jean Genie. You were my first and truest friend, Sev, and I will love you forever."

 

"Arthur, before we went into hiding I was planning your Christmas present. I booked you onto a muggle evening course in home maintenance, and got you a pair of proper muggle jeans. Go learn how to wire a plug and put up shelves the muggle way and have fun. I'm leaving you my Dad's toolbox, and you have the challenge of getting my mum's sewing machine to work for Molly. Love you both, by the way. Please stay in touch with Harry - we want him to have his play times with Ronnie and the twins still."

 

"Alice, Sirius, Remus... I have no words. I'm going to miss you so much. You've been a huge part of the best part of my life. There are letters and mementos for each of you in the vault, but I want each of you to know I love you. Cherish each other, look after each other; look after Severus for me. Make sure he's not burning himself out, worrying himself sick over Harry's coughs and sniffles, that they go on holiday on the spur of the moment. Make sure he gets the good biscuits for himself, not just guests."

 

"James, my love, my all. I hope I have a long time to wait for you. I hope you'll find happiness. I hope you live to see Harry's white beard reach his knees. I will watch, and I will wait. I love you. Goodbye."

 

The golden glow dimmed from the room, the only sounds the low sobs from the front row of seats, where Sirius and Remus held tightly onto their bond mate and his son.


	21. Twisted Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Speedy Tomato's fans from Facebook - hope you like it!

The door to the Reading Room slammed into the wall as Dumbledore strode into the hall in what was clearly a monumental rage. That Mudblood bitch! After all he had done for her! Years of work, grooming the Potters and other Pureblood light families of status to the point where they would accept mudblood breeders into their ranks! First the Black girl had been disowned, not that she'd have been much use, throwing out a girl rather than a boy, and now this! Leaving him with only the Longbottom brat to work with, who was by all accounts not much better than a bloody squib!

He paused in the brightly cold November sunlight on the steps of Gringotts, ignoring the bemused glances of passers by. No, he was going to get the Potter brat. Three Houses worth of guardians? If he wanted to, he would kick down each one of the bloody Ancient and Noble inbred warrens to get his own way. However, there were easier ways. He doubted very much that those ingrate fools knew of their precious bond mate's dirty past, but even if they'd all worn the Dark Mark - and who was to say they hadn't, now they were buried past the Daily Prophet's ability to check? - there was no way the Wizarding public, most of whose he'd taught, would allow a confirmed and convicted criminal to raise a child, much less the Lord of a renowned Dark House - the cousin of Bellatrix Nameless, at that - and his werewolf lover. There was no way Mycroft Holmes would trouble himself with a dirty, noisy brat, and the Longbottoms were as good as dead, with Augusta looking to offload the squib already, according to dear Algie. Three Houses? Not enough, Potter. Not nearly enough against him.

His mind made up, he strode down the steps. First things first, a concerned citizen's report to dear Millicent regarding the unfortunate Mark marring Snape's left forearm, followed in no short order by a custody request on behalf of Hogwarts and a word dropped in Oliver Trumpton's ear at the Prophet about the shocking Death Eater associations of the Potters...

\------------

Severus had pulled himself, and Harry, together, and now he, Sirius and Remus followed Griphook to the Director's office to wait for Narcissa. They had not long been waiting before Ragnok re entered the room, followed by two goblins, their arms laden. Heavy books, some clearly centuries old, were placed in front of Severus, whose eyes widened almost comically at the sight. 

"Calm down", Sirius murmured. "No one expects you to pick up estate management in a day. If you just let the Head Elf know that you wish to keep the estate in the same way as their Lord James did for now, maintaining their budgets and so on at the status quo, then we can go through everything together once we've settled in. We have three Houses to manage between us, so this is something we can all do." 

Remus tapped the pile nearest to him. "These all appear to be House Prince records. Not as many as the Potters, but still, they look like they go back a fair bit."

"Just don't open any," Severus warned. "Family Magics can be fairly lethal, even in predominantly Light Houses, and the books will undoubtedly be warded to the Blood. As the House of Prince is a fairly dark Neutral House, the curses might be somewhat grisly."

Ragnok leaned back in his chair. "You are all bonded to the penultimate stage, of course, and in the case of the Lupin bloodline, you are all finally attuned since you received your claiming marks." He paused, looking at their shocked faces. "Gentlemen, please. We are in a Goblin institution. We have records pertaining to everything." The shock on their faces widened to horror, until the goblin roared with laughter. "I shall enjoy sharing this memory over mead with you some day. Detection wards in the Main Hall, remember? If they can pick up compulsion charms on a baby, think how fresh mating marks and new bonds must make them dance."

The triad looked at each other, a touch sheepishly. Ragnok smile grew so wide, it nearly touched his ears. "I do do enjoy teasing you humans. The colours your faces go! So unlike my people." He leant forward, confidingly. "There you have to watch their earlobes twitch. So now you know a secret about my people; we know you are bonded by Creature mating; we are balanced, hmm? Now. You will have to share blood to cement the final stage of the Prince and Black blood bonds. Not as much fun as a mating bite, but alas, none of you are vampire or veela, so we make do with the athame. As blood-father to Harry, Potter blood flows in Lord Prince's veins, so in exchanging blood with him you will gain blood protection from the House of Potter also. There is an athame and bowl behind you on the little altar, if you wish to have this formally witnessed."

The words for the little ritual were simple and brief, and as at Harry's adoption, Magic sealed the bond with a bright flare over the triad and the mingled blood in the bowl, followed by a familiar surge through each of the bondmates' bodies, all of whom were suddenly thankful that they had worn traditional dress robes for the reading as a golden ribbon of light flashed to pure white light and wrapped itself around them, weaving in and out of their bodies and binding them tightly together before sinking into their skin. Ragnok, or 'that bloody Goblin', as Severus mentally dubbed him, snorted with laughter again, but mercifully refrained from making any comment at the slight muskiness easily detected by goblin noses.

"You will be pleased to know that your accounts have been updated with your new status and names", began Ragnok. "Wards on each of the properties will accept each of you with the customary blood check, but will need to be changed by one of you to allow those not of shared blood in. The ledgers and other books in the libraries across your properties will now be accessible to each of you, and you will be able to summon house elves tied to the three Houses, although it is only polite to accept the bonding oaths of elves not previously tied to you as a formality. As you will have heard from Lord James Potter, a change of uniform is often offered to the House Elf staff upon the accession of a new Head of House. It is customary for the Lady or Lord Consort of the House to decide this in concert with the Head Elf, but I am sure you will be able to decide this amongst yourselves."

"Sirius." replied Severus and Remus simultaneously. "No leather" added Severus after barely a beat. Even Ragnok shuddered at that.

"Your individual bequests, vaults and access cards, keys etc are in front of you. Your individual account managers are available to you, day or night, but I would recommend you retain an overall manager to run shared concerns and investments. I would be honoured if you would consider me for this role, if only because I will greatly enjoy making us all rich and impoverishing our enemies before crushing their bones before us like dust."

Narcissa's cool voice came from the doorway. "I would very much like for you to include my House in that overall engagement, for if there is one thing Malfoys and Blacks all delight in, it is in crushing the bones of our enemies, particularly if there is profit to be made. And it appears we have so many enemies to crush."

Ragnok rose and walked towards her, bowing a bow offered in his culture between equals, making Severus' eyebrows raise. "Lady Malfoy-Black, it will be an honour to do battle beside such a worthy ally. We will wade through rivers of blood and gold until our dues have been paid." 

Returning the bow, not curtsying, Narcissa acknowledged her acceptance of the formal war pledge.

She turned to the bond mates. "Gentlemen, I came to inform you that Draco and I have accepted Lord Holmes offer, as discussed with you. As Protector of House Malfoy, Lord Black, I grant you in front of this Scribe and my Peers full authority to handle the necessary financial transactions. Draco is still with Cursebreaker Gracklewrat, who found much he had to deal with affecting us both, so I will floo back to the House in a few hours once all the spells and charms have been lifted from him."

\----------

Narcissa stalked, there was no other word for it, back through the granite corridors towards the Cursebreaker ward she had already spent three painful hours in. As if Obliviating her every few hours hadn't satisfied Lucius, he and, it turned out, his father Abraxas, had placed numerous Compulsions on her. From a Virginity ward guaranteed to ensure a painful first experience of intercourse, the sadistic bastards, that had been placed on her at the age of seven when the betrothal contracts were exchanged, to the fidelity Compulsion that would have ensured her inability to consummate any other relationship for life, they had draped her magical core with so many locks that it was a miracle she could manage a simple Lumos! She was still feeling a slight rush of adrenaline caused by the slow but steady expansion of her Core to what it should have been since her magical Inheritance. 

A hex causing fatigue after using any 'Light' spell. Another that limited sexual satisfaction during self-pleasure. Another that caused headaches after a certain percentage - a low percentage at that - of spells had been cast. A slow hex draining her immune system's ability to fight of illness had been present since Draco's birth, matching another that lowered her body's ability to produce red blood cells or clot wounds. Every time that bastard complimented her pale beauty, he was complimenting himself on slowly killing her. Thankfully Severus would be able to provide her with the regime of potions she would need to take for six months to reverse nearly all the damage. Six months! When magic and potions could heal nearly everything save beheading or the Killing Curse inside three weeks at the absolute most, six months indicated that she had been at death's door until the potions she had taken this morning had come into effect. If those were on her Draco she was going to storm into Azkaban and claw his entrails out with her bare hands. If Ragnok was very lucky she might let him hold her cloak. Abraxas' portraits were going to be tracked down and either burnt or sent to the bottom of the sea.

She looked through the crystal observation window at the room in which Draco lay, spelled asleep on Breaker Gracklewrat's cushioned table. The pediatric healer he had brought in, a Healer McGonagall, was waiting for her in the adjoining office, but she wanted to look at her boy as the goblin worked ceaselessly pulling the curses from his tiny frame. For the first time she was grateful that Lucius had been spared either the undeath of the Dementors' Kiss or the cold embrace of the Veil. A long life - well, as long as could be attained in Azkaban - spent at the guards tender mercies under the watchful, ever present torment from the Dementors, bereft of company, luxuries or grooming products was not enough torture for him, but it would be a start. Maybe she could wall his cell with unbreakable mirrors, and pay for a full time Dementor presence outside his cell door. 

She already knew he had cursed her boy with a spell to slowly erode his love for all women, including her, while another constrained his psyche to only find the female form attractive. The attempts to control his own child's sexuality horrified her. They lived in a world of magic, not like the muggles with their hysterical homophobia, burning down gay nightclubs and beating up same sex couples on the street. Potions, surrogates, blood adoptions, bearers: all were ways of securing a Blood Line's Family Magics, and had been available for centuries, which in turn meant the curse had been illegal for so long it had been forgotten. Most of the pure blood Families boasted of their Creature inheritances! 

Sexuality was not and never had been an issue or hindrance in the Wizarding world, a fact that often surprised Muggleborns who attempted to bring their own beliefs and prejudices into their new world. Lucius had had numerous pretty boys straddled across his lap over the years, and Abraxas' stables were renowned for their high turnover of stable hands and jockeys, so the joined curses baffled Narcissa as much as it enraged her. Such a curse combination would have led to a life of sex based not in affection or love, but in disdain and hatred. Should his true gender preference be for his own sex, the self loathing would have been crippling. Any sexual touch would have disgusted him.

What troubled her most was the compulsion to obey Lucius and Voldemort laid down at the same time. Breaker Gracklewrat had already advised her that the compulsion was difficult to eradicate, being deeply rooted in Draco's mind and, most disturbingly, hooked into the pleasure centre of the boy's brain. It explained Draco's craving for his emotionally and often physically absent father's approval, and, like an addict, Draco would have come to the point where he would have done anything to keep either man's attentions, followed any order. By adulthood, all trace of his own personality would have been obliterated. Her beautiful, giggling child. She had never thought, other than the curses, o she would have been so grateful for Lucius' lack of interest in their son as anything other than a prop until now.

Breaker Gracklewrat stood up straight, and turned to the observation window, bowing. He gestured toward the small office joining the little ward to the corridor Narcissa stood in. She schooled her face back to the calm pureblood mask before turning to meet Healer McGonagall.  
Time to find out what else the monster she had married had done to her child.


	22. Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Triad share some alone time. Bellatrix Nameless begins her revenge, while Dumbledore seeks to bring down Severus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating! I have ten more chapters written, and the outlines for more, but my laptop died and my aging tablet has issues with cut-and-paste! I'm so glad for the comments and Kudos this story has received, and I hope this chapter makes you happy. Xxxxx

Along with shrunken trunks full of Family Grimoirs, Estate Journals and the letters and personal belongings of Lily and James, the family flooed home. Narcissa was still at Gringotts with Draco, and Harry was in desperate need of a nap. The Triad was in desperate need of something else.

Their shared bond flared anew, stronger thanks to the final sharing of blood, and it had taken almost all Remus' willpower not to pounce on his bondmates in Ragnok's office. He was certain Ragnok had been aware of this, going by the smirks sent his way. Goblins had, after all, both a very earthy sense of humour and a keen sense of smell. The sexual surge from the ritual had almost brought him to orgasm right there and then, and as Sev had gone straight to the nursery with Harry, the urge to pin his other mate down to prevent them both leaving his side was too much to resist.

The low moan from Sirius as his intention slipped through the bond snapped Remus' last thread of control, and even as he threw up the privacy wards around the room he pounced on Sirius, slamming him against the wall and claiming his mouth in a searingly passionate kiss as he tore into their clothes. Sirius' knees buckled as he groaned, a sound that went straight to Remus' cock, making it twitch as it wept precum copiously. Remus nipped and kissed his way down Sirius' neck as the man panted and writhed beneath him, before he bit firmly down on the mating Mark. Sirius howled in pleasure, and the wolf within surged close to the surface. As Sirius' knees gave way, Remus caught him and flipped him over to his hands and knees: the picture of a proud Beta submitting to his Pack Leader, his clothes in tattered shreds. 

Remus banished the rags from both of them, and, grasping Sirius' hips, pulled him back toward him, growling as his cock made contact with his mate's flesh. The necessary spells fell from Sirius' lips as Remus, caught in his urgent need to mate, pushed into his mate's tight but welcoming heat and began to thrust immediately, unable to wait even for Sirius to adjust. Sirius howled again in pleasure and pain; a combination he personally hungered for, a need answered as Remus slammed into him over and over. Both men were cursing and grunting, lost in the surges of pleasure and lust as Remus rutted fiercely into his mate, gripping him so harshly that his nails pierced the skin on his hips. Sirius didn't even notice, lost in the fire that surge through the bond, looping back through their bond.

Upstairs Severus helplessly moaned in pleasure at the sensations pouring through the bond, causing Harry to stir restlessly in his sleep at the noise. He made it out of the nursery and into their adjoining room before falling to his knees, overcome by the sensations searing through their links, barely managing to take himself in hand before coming to completion, the combined sensations of both his dominant mates overtaking him. In turn, his orgasm travelled through the bond, and downstairs Sirius was overwhelmed by the dual physical and mental pleasures coursing through him. His arse clenched around Remus' dick as it thrust rapidly in him; he came shouting Remus' name, and sagged, his elbows touching the floor as his head rested on his arms. The utter submission of the position inflamed the Alpha even more, and he howled his delight even as he came in the deep heat of his mate, covering Sirius' body possessively as his semen spurted deep within him. In two different rooms the men lay curled on the floor, utterly exhausted, but with the bond shimmering brightly within each of them.

Ever discreet, Turnwise waited until the breathing sounds suggested the two men had fallen into a light doze, before popping them up to their bed, where their other mate would find himself when he roused. Quick snaps of his fingers saw the sitting room restored to it's normal condition, the floo unlocked and the simple privacy wards disassembled before the elf contentedly returned to his routine. In the study Sherrinford listened to his favourite piano concerto through his headphones as he worked, the werewolf endorphins affecting even him as he hummed happily -and unaware - to himself. In the nursery, Harry cooed in his sleep, as in his dreams his golden mummy tickled him while his Daddy chuckled.

\--------

Away from the contented aura blanketing the Trewissick safe house, Mycroft frowned at the parchment in front of him, a summons demanding Severus, Lord Prince, answer to the charges brought before the Wizengamot that he was a Death Eater. Dumbledore moved fast. An unspeakable had reported his storming out of the bank and straight to Minister Bagnold's office, from where the summons came. Further paperwork was from the Child and Family Protection division, requesting urgent custody of Harry James Potter-Snape Prince, A.K.A Harry Potter, to be stripped from Severus, Lord Prince, Death Eater. 

Copies were undoubtedly on the desk of the Prophet, the Staff and so on, as well as the automatic publishing of the summons outside the Moot Hall. Bloody man. While Dumbledore's plan would ultimately fail, the damage to Severus' reputation would severely affect the intensely private man. Not to mention, what with the publication of the wills today, tonight's edition of The Prophet would be rather hefty. It would be rather interesting to see what Dumbledore's pet reporter could do to spin the Potter's condemnation of the Headmaster, but Mycroft had no doubt he would manage. The man was becoming a nuisance and would bear watching. At least the wills' public provisos were published in all the Wizarding press, as well as filed at the Ministry, although the full wills were held in the goblins' files.

Severus' trial would be held in the morning, before the in-absentia joint trial of Voldemort, Bellatrix Nameless and Peter Pettigrew. Although Narcissa's presence would be requested, her evidence would be given via Pensieve. The attempted tarnishing of Severus would, if the goblins had not been able to remove the Mark, have severely weakened the case against Pettigrew, as Remus' lycanthropic state meant that his evidence, though the victim of Pettigrew's only confirmed attack, was given the same weight as other Dark creatures, which was to say, not much. It was rare enough for any creature's unwitnessed evidence to secure a conviction against a wizard or witch, let alone one classed as 'Dark' irrespective of individual activities. Whether Dumbledore was attempting to gain Pettigrew's loyalty or not, Mycroft had yet to decide. The Mark alone would classify him as a Death Eater, the penalty for which membership was ten years in Azkaban, before other offences accrued their own sentences. Dumbledore was playing a long game with little return as far as the rat was concerned.

More concerning was the Wizengamot meeting called for this afternoon. The session was not scheduled, and such meetings usually spelled trouble. With Bagnold apparently firmly in Dumbledore's pocket, and the Potter/Black votes due to be activated at the next scheduled meeting, the Chamber was still weighted towards the pro-Dumbledore faction, even though the Headmaster himself only held one token vote in respect of his position at Hogwarts. Though Unspeakables were investigating, there was no information coming in as to the reason Bagnold had called the session, and only two hours to go. It was unusual enough a situation that Mycroft intended to attend in person, rather than abstain by Proxy.

\-----------

Maison Malfoy was a charmingly pretty sixteenth century Manor House just above Tourette-Levens in the South of France. A minor branch of the Malfoy family, they maintained the family connection to the more powerful British House Malfoy mostly through business dealings, operating a renowned vineyard specialising in magical wines thanks to the high wild magical background of the area. There were infrequent visit, and yearly Yule greetings were rather formally exchanged. They aspired to no political standing within the French Ministry, preferring to base their reputation on that of their excellent wines.

Their property wards were, sadly, pathetic. Oh, they were fine for a Family with no personal enemies and nothing but a friendly rivalry between other local vintners, but they were hopeless before Amycus Carrow's ward-breaking abilities. The Carrows had been found cowering in one of the few safe houses left, along with Nott, who had managed to make it to Ireland before collapsing from the Mark's punishment. He was under Alecto's dubious care for now, until the trials were over, and assuming he escaped Naming, he intended to return to his role as anonymous backer as soon as he could walk again.

The vineyard and winery were now aflame, and the occupants of the Manor, having left the small protection of the Manor and its blood wards, now occupied stakes in front of the main entrance while Bellatrix, Pettigrew and Carrow stripped the now wardless house of anything useable. Into their charmed trunks went the small amount of useful Dark trinkets, sneakerscopes and the late occupants' wands, while Bellatrix tried on French fashions and summoned all the jewellery. Being somewhat brighter than Pettigrew, Carrow ransacked the library and study, ordering the rat-like man to the kitchens to obtain supplies. The 'hidden' stack of galleons was, of course, in a predictable spot. 

By the time Aurors responded to the sickly green Dark Mark hovering over the fiendfyre inferno that used to be the centre of Wizarding society in this small area of France, the trio had already apparated to Genoa, Italy, home of Lucius' Uncle Paolo and his world renowned Abraxan herd.

\--------

The Wizengamot was called to order, a little less organised in settling down in their seats thanks to the last minute nature of the session. The Malfoy seat, along with those held by Death Eaters currently in detention who had not been able to activate their proxies, was empty; Narcissa still by Draco's side in Gringotts Healer bay. Mycroft sat calmly in his seat, the proxy still for the Prince seat until that was formally conferred tomorrow after Severus' trial. The Potter/Black seats similarly were empty until then. As it stood, the Chamber was weighted by a clear margin towards Dumbledore's faction. In order for British Politics to have a chance at balance and for the Wizengamot to be anything but a rubber stamp for Dumbledore's policies, the thirteen seats held by the Triad needed to be activated as soon as possible. Though the recess session about to begin could not constitute a Criminal Court due to longstanding procedures, votes of No Confidence were commonly raised in such sessions. 

Sitting in the central chair a cross from him was the intended target, the Chief Warlock Griselda Marchbanks. Though they had exchanged little but pleasantries aloud, two legilimens could hold a conversation across a Quidditch stadium, let alone a noisy Moot Hall, and the Chief had informed him that the more sensitive documents of her tenure had already been transferred to his office, spelled for his eyes only. It had been a great relief. Like him, Marchbanks came from a deliberately Neutral House and had no time for the posturing of the Light or Dark factions, but while Dumbledore himself professed to hold her in high esteem, his supporters muttered against her judicial record, which gave no especial regard to the perception of Light being synonymous with Right. They both knew she would lose her Office today. The question was, to whom.

\--------

The Patronus of Paolo Malfoy reached Narcissa as she was saying her farewells to Ragnok and Gracklewrat. Ragnok had immediately fire called Gringotts in Paris, Florence and Sicily to alert the local families there. Aurors would be stationed at the other properties, but Paolo and his grandchildren had barely escaped from Genoa with their lives. They had Apparated Away to neighbours while his son and daughter in law tried to hold back the wild woman who rained destruction down upon their home with her two companions. 

Once the Aurors had been notified, there was an anxious wait until the Floo in Ragnok's office flared, the three children supporting their Grandfather through the fireplace and onto the transfigured sofa. Within minutes the four were being scanned by Healers, while Griphook was sent to notify Lord Black of the developing situation. The children's parents were dead, as were the house elves bonded to the family, and Paolo quickly accepted her offer of the well warded Malfoy Manor to stay in for the foreseeable future. His herd would join with that of Draco's, extending the bloodlines. While he had no interest in politics, he would make an excellent manager for the stables, and hopefully maintain or increase their reputation as breeders. The Manor wards would need at least one family member to reside behind them, and this solved that issue.

It took the remainder of the afternoon to locate all the other members of the minor Malfoy branches. The Genoese Manor had been presumably gutted of anything of value, but the trio of Death Eaters had been disturbed by the arrival of a heavy band of Aurors, and had portkeyed out through the weakened wards of the house after Bellatrix had cursed it with Fiendfyre, but before they had touched the fields and stables. Thankfully the workers there, both wizard and house-elf, had survived, though the elves in the main building had died defending their Family. 

The Sicilian branch were emphatically Dark, and had retreated behind heavy wards, much to Narcissa's silent relief. They were deeply unpleasant people, skilled political operatives of the magical, muggle and criminal worlds they inhabited, and while she was honour bound to notify them and offer Sanctuary behind the Malfoy wards, she was grateful for and relieved by the unstated disassociation. Formal papers could now be drawn up 'empowering' the minor branch to form their own House without offence, due to the formal renunciation of the Head's offer of asylum. Officially it would be seen as a mark of respect in the strength of their House. Privately, it would mean that she as Draco's Regent, and later Draco himself, would not be tarnished by their activities, nor would the Family Magics have the admittedly minor drain towards their protection.

She was close to both the dowager matriarch of the Parisian Malfoys and the engagingly urbane Comte di Malfoy, with whom Severus had stayed during his Potions apprenticeship, enjoying the comradeship of the intelligent Florentine wizard. She was relieved beyond measure when they, along with Mme Malfoy's children and grandchildren, were all accounted for. Mme Mathilde's wards were provided by the Parisian branch of Gringotts, and Narcissa made a note to request Ragnok to send his best Warders to the Manor to increase their security. 

Comte Luciano flooed into the bank at Narcissa's request. Though both he and Lucius had been named after a mutual grandfather, the cousins had never been close, with Luciano valuing intelligence and culture above any notion of Blood superiority. Unlike the English Malfoy's, his family did not practice child betrothal, preferring to leave the issues of marriage and heirs to the individuals concerned, nor did they concern themselves in politics. They were known to frequent and support Wizarding sciences, providing scholarships for various Masteries in Potions, Arithmancy and Runes. Narcissa had enjoyed his company, and they maintained regular platonic correspondence. He had long encouraged her to return to her study in Runes, and now agreed to meet Lord Black with her the next day, particularly after hearing he was now one of Severus' bondmates. It was her hope that he would agree to hold the Wards and Wizengamot seats under Oath in her absence.

\---------

Sirius was in the kitchen chatting with Turnwise and Biddle when the Floo chimed, and Griphook was announced.

"I am sorry to arrive unannounced, Lord Black, but there have been complications this afternoon. As House Malfoy is under your protection, Lady Malfoy-Black requested I inform you that your cousin Bellatrix has attacked two of the family's European households, killing several family members and their house elves. She has asked if she may offer permanent sanctuary to the Neutral families; the Dark have refused assistance from their local Ministries and raised their familial wards."

"Merlin's swea... Yes, yes, of course, assuming she applies discretion as to who runs free over here. The Manor has been stripped of harmful artifacts, so as long as the elves can get them through the wards, I don't have any problem. Narcissa must not go to the wardstone herself; for all we know Bellatrix has someone waiting in place. I will need to make reparations to the families by the end of business this week; Morgana knows we don't need Blood Feud status with any of Draco's kin."

Griphook nodded. "I will formally open negotiations regarding reparations with Lady Narcissa and the survivors. They are all of direct descent from the Malfoy line, albeit a few times removed, so the blood wards should recognise them. The closest relative is Lucius Nameless' cousin, one Comte Luciano di Malfoy, who claims acquaintance with Lord Prince-Black. Although his home was unaffected, he has agreed to attend Lady Narcissa and yourself at your discretion."

By now Severus and Remus were in the room. Severus arched an eyebrow. "Luciano? Was he attacked?"

"No, my Lords. A French branch of the family was wiped out, and the heir and heiress of the Genoese branch fell defending their Lord and children. Lady Malfoy-Black intends for them to remain at the Manor until the danger is passed. Comte di Malfoy was warned in advance, and has raised goblin wards, as has Mme Malfoy at the Paris residence."

Sirius growled. "The danger will not be over until that bitch and her toadies are dead or Kissed. I hereby strip Bellatrix Black LeStrange of her Name and House, and void all contracts made in her name or on her behalf by the House of Black. I reclaim all assets of the House of Black in her possession, including her dowry and vaults, and cast her from our family. Furthermore, I reinstate Andromeda Tonks to the House of Black, and recognise her marriage as being valid and sanctioned by the House of Black. I restore her vaults and dowry, and confer upon her daughter the dowry of Bellatrix Nameless, formerly of this House, recognising Nymphadora Tonks as a legitimate daughter of the House of Black. I give to Andromeda Black Tonks the residence known as Grimmauld Place and request that Gringotts oversee the removal, cataloging and destruction of all Dark Artifacts therein, with especial mention of the painting in the entrance Hall of my unlamented mother, after she has been informed of the new owners."

Griphook showed almost demonic pleasure though spoke calmly. "So mote it be, Lord Black. As of now, Bellatrix Nameless is cast out of the House of Black, as witnessed by myself and two peers. Would you like me to arrange the scrutiny of the vaults in her former possession for any unseemly articles?"

Sirius laughed. "Oh, please do. Would you please let Madam Black-Tonk's know of her restored status, and advise her to get her skinny arse, and those of anyone she loves, to Grimmauld Place? Let her know Bella is on the rampage."

"Of course", Griphook agreed. He bowed. "Lord Black, thank you for your patronage. I will have a team at Grimmauld Place immediately, with your permission, and another going through the vaults. May the blood of your enemies flow like gold into your coffers, and may their bones be ground to dust beneath your feet."

Sirius sighed happily. "Oh, I do love Goblin formality. May your enemies fall before you and their gold enrich your nation and family, Griphook, Friend of House Black, and may you hear their screams when you sleep."

\---------

Dumbledore swept proudly down the Ministry corridors, where the reporters for the evening papers and Wizarding Wireless were waiting to find out the reason for the emergency Wizengamot session. Unlike that mouselike Marchbanks, he delighted in wearing the purple and gilt velvet robe of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and had had the foresight to commission a few outer robes in the distinctive colour way beforehand, giving the junior Clerk of the Court the ability to bring a set out for his acceptance speech. So many people overlooked the importance of both preparation and looking the part.

In terms of looking the part, was there ever a more stereotypical looking Death Eater than Severus Snape? While he wouldn't do more today other than subtly imply the so-called 'second father' of Harry Potter needed to be above reproach when it came to looking after the Boy Saviour - it was his maiden press speech as Chief Warlock after all - through his input into dear Daniel's article in tonight's Prophet there should be people baying for Severus Snape's blood by the time he was forced to reveal his Dark Mark, and the paperwork waiting in the Department of Child And Family Services would go through slicker than gillyweed through a hippogriff. Laws ensuring bondmates could not be penalised by their Mate being Kissed were not reason enough for withholding that penalty in this instance, because who would believe a Were or one of the Black family were not equally dark? With Snape Kissed and his bondmates insane, not to mention the Longbottoms not being exactly in the position to be effective godparents, James Potter's pathetic plans to keep Harry away from Albus Dumbledore would have no defenders. 

He beamed at the waiting reporters, taking a moment to really appreciate the scene. The ugliness of the morning aside, today was a great step forward in his plans, and by Merlin, he was going to enjoy every moment of it. Making sure every photographer caught the full effect of his twinkling eyes and fatherly smile, Dumbledore stepped forward to meet his adoring public.


	23. Courting Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trial of Severus Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double post of chapters, just to say Thank You for waiting.

Gringotts were very selective in the Owls they used, and even then, there were a select few who were very carefully trained in the art of delivering unwelcome news. Shooting the messenger was not just a phrase amongst some of their clients, or former clients, and well trained owls were expensive. Generations of selective breeding had lead to a cadre of extremely intelligent owls. 

The sooty grey Scops owl currently monitoring her recipient was no slouch in the intelligence department. In her beak she carried a small message tube spelled to land and stick on the target's head with a shrieking spell going off to alert them on the off chance the soft 'thunk' didn't gain their attention. By the time anyone had unpeeled a shrieking sticking cylinder from their hair or hat, they usually weren't focused enough to look for the delivery owl, nor would they have time to read their letter by the time the swift creatures were away and camouflaged by the night. 

It was quite a light tube, even for a Scops owl to carry. The goblins, after all, hadn't wasted much paper and ink on telling Bellatrix Nameless she was cast out of the House of Black, her marriage invalidated, her dowry reclaimed and her vaults confiscated. By the time the witch had managed to unstick the message tube from her riotous mop of curls and read her letter, the tiny grey owl was five fields away, and flying for her life as the screams of rage began.

\--------

The owl looking for Severus, Lord Prince had returned to the Wizengamot without being able to deliver his message. The Clerk duly recorded the fact, and set the notification spell which would inform the Chief Warlock that the summons had been non-delivered, and that another means of notification would be required. As the Chief Warlock was quite happy for this particular trial to be done in absentia as was the other trial on the book, he decided to deal with the spell tomorrow. After a busy day in court, perhaps.

\----------

There were very few people about in the Atrium at 6:30am when Lords Black, Lupin-Black, Black-Prince and Holmes flooed into the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, accompanied by the effortlessly elegant Lady Malfoy-Black. After registering their wands with a somewhat astonished duty Auror, they made their way undisturbed to the Moot Chamber, which opened smoothly at Lord Holmes' wand movement. Escorting Lady Malfoy-Black to her seat, the others made their way to their own hereditary Chairs. Well, Lord Lupin-Black didn't have his own Chair as yet, but he was pretty sure Lord Nott, whose posterior would normally grace the seat next to Sirius', wouldn't be turning up today, so probably wouldn't mind him sitting and reading his 'Charms In Depth' journal. Severus, in the middle of the chamber, was fast engrossed in a Potions thesis he was reviewing, and Narcissa, four rows down near the front, was embroidering a rather nice fire screen and ignoring, as much as possible, her cousin. Sirius was reading aloud choice passages from a muggle novel he'd picked up, called The Story Of O, and was plotting to smuggle as many copies as he could into Arthur's office, trying to persuade Remus to put duplicating charms on it that would activate when he tried to banish them. Mycroft had disappeared to his office.

By 8 am many of the Light seats were full, with many somewhat surprised House representatives in them. Sirius was having a grand time waving at them, and Remus had given up reading and was helplessly enjoying the show. Mycroft came in just behind a small bevy of Neutral Houses, deliberately not drawing attention to himself, and pulled out a small beige and extremely boring looking folder with which he was occupying his time. The few Dark Houses who had not affiliated with Voldemort, and the remaining Neutrals (some of whom had, behind the scenes) drifted in.

At 8:25am in came Dumbledore with a small group of flunkies, who stayed at his side until the last possible moment, handily obscuring his view of the seats. Sirius was audibly humming 'The Death March', knowing that almost no one except Remus got the reference. Five minutes later the Clerk of the Court ordered everyone to take their places and rise for the Chief Warlock to be seated.

As the floor cleared, Dumbledore made his way to the restored throne-like seat on the dais that had been in storage during Chief Marchbanks' years in office. Far more fitting for such a prestigious role. As he solemnly sat, allowing everyone else to take their seats, he suddenly noticed Sirius, lounging in his chair and evidently not having risen in respect, and next to him the wolf boy. Which meant... He scanned the chamber seating in mounting outrage - yes, there he was!

He banged the gavel on its post, and waited impatiently for the chamber to hush. He rose to his feet, privately revelling in the moment. 

"Guards, there is an arrest warrant outstanding and a summons issued for the Death Eater known as Severus Snape, who is sitting in the fifth row. Please do your duty." 

"Point of order, Madam Clerk", came the bored tones of Lord Holmes. "Lord Prince-Black of House Prince has not been found guilty of being a Death Eater, and therefore must be treated as any other member of a Noble House."

"The point is well founded, Lord Holmes, Chief Warlock. Guards, if you would escort Lord Prince-Black to the Accusation Chair please."

Severus rose and neatly placed his journal on his seat, clearly signifying his expected return, and, straightening his robes, walked down the tiered steps to the Chamber floor. He sat calmly in the Chair facing the Wizengamot. Idly he unbuttoned his cuffs at both wrists as Dumbledore stood. Not looking at his former employee, he faced the Wizengamot and began speaking as Severus calmly rolled his sleeves back to the elbows on both arms. A small ripple of murmurs, and not a few chuckles, rose, and, irritated, Dumbledore gestured for quiet.

"My Lords, Ladies, today you see before you a blackhearted wretch of a man, a man who I can personally attest is a Death Eater..."

"Point of order, Madam Clerk," Mycroft said again in tones of perfect boredom. "Is Headmaster, sorry, Chief Warlock Dumbledore, here as judge, interrogator, or witness? It is usual for an Interrogator to call the charges and begin questioning the defendant and witnesses."

"The point is well founded, Lord Holmes. Chief Dumbledore, if you would return to your seat. I call Interrogator Crouch to the floor."

Seething, Dumbledore stalked back to his raised chair, and fought to smooth his countenance as Interrogator Crouch stepped down from the benches and walked towards the Chair. Halfway there he stopped and stared at Severus, sitting calmly, arms bare.

"What nonsense is this?" he snapped. "Which damn fool is wasting Court time in this manner?"

Irate now, Dumbledore snapped back. "Interrogator Crouch, I think you are rather carelessly referring to me, as I reported Snape to the Ministry myself!"

"On what possible grounds?" demanded Crouch, furiously.

"On the grounds of the Dark Mark on his arms, Mr Crouch! The Dark Mark!"

The laughter rippling quietly through the Wizengamot rose past discretion levels as the attendees could all clearly see what Dumbledore had yet to notice, blocked as he was by his chair being on the dais behind the Accusation Chair rather than his having taken Griselda Marchbanks' usual place in the front row. 

"I would like to make it clear to the Court, Sir, that Lord Prince-Black does not appear to have the Dark Mark on either arm, and I therefore submit that the accusation is baseless and without merit". Crouch was clearly only just holding on to his temper. Dumbledore rose and strode forward, bumping deliberately into the Interrogator as he came past, before freezing in place at the sight of Severus, clearly displaying arms free of any blemish.

"Impossible!" he roared. Calmly, Severus stood. "If it helps, Madame Clerk?" She nodded for him to continue. "I swear upon my magic that I do not have the the Dark Mark anywhere about my person, and that I have never shared the beliefs propagated by the so called 'Lord Voldemort' and his Death Eaters, nor am I a Death Eater." He held his hand out, and said "Accio Potions Thesis ." 

The slim book flew towards his outstretched hand.

"Point of order, Madam Clerk," drawled Mycroft, secretly having the most fun he'd had in years. "Magic herself has shown Lord Prince-Black to be truthful. I call for a vote on the matter."

"A vote has been called for on the matter of Magic Versus Severus Snape. If you find Lord Prince-Black guilty of possessing the Dark Mark, of Death Eater membership and activities, please cast a red Lumos. If you find him to be innocent of possessing the Dark Mark and the associated charges, please cast a White Lumos. The vote will now begin."

It was a close race between Sirius and Remus as to who cast the first white Lumos , but every eligible wand in the chamber glowed white. Even Crouch's wand, held casually down by his side, glowed white briefly in support, followed quickly by white flashes from the Auror guards. It was definitely Narcissa who began the applause, as Dumbledore sharply gestured for Severus to go back to the tiered seats. Severus made sure to walk as close to him as possible. "Love the robes, Fumbles. Hope they didn't cost too much."

Spluttering in rage, Dumbledore almost missed the next events.

"Point of order, Madam Clerk", came the voice that Dumbledore had come to loathe over the last ten excruciating minutes. "The House of Holmes would like to draw the court's attention to the ruling made fourteen years ago in Magic Versus Malfoy wherein defamatory accusations found to be blatantly unfounded are penalised by a sum of not less than twenty thousand Galleons and not more than forty thousand Galleons to be paid to the victim by the accuser. As Lord Prince-Black's status could have been verified at any stage preceding a trial in front of a full court of his Peers, I submit that the qualifications for this award have been more than met."

"The point is well founded, Lord Holmes. To vote in the amount of damages, please cast a red Lumos for the sum of twenty thousand Galleons, a green Lumos for the sum of thirty thousand Galleons, or a white Lumos for the sum of Forty thousand Galleons. The vote will now begin."

In unison, Sirius and Remus put on muggle sunglasses. Just as well. The light cast by so many unanimously cast white Lumos was near blinding.

\---------

The reading into court of the Lords Black, Prince-Black, and Lupin-Black's assumption of their Wizengamot seats, and the assumption of the House of Potter's and that of Malfoy's seats by proxy by their Heirs' Regent were almost anti-climatic, and a shell-shocked Dumbledore did not even think to protest the assumption of a Wizengamot seat by an open Lycanthrope. The Wizangamot rejected the papers applying for a custody order on the basis of Death Eater activity on the part of his father for Harry Potter equally swiftly, and the trial in absentia of Lord Voldemort, Bellatrix Nameless and Peter Pettigrew began. The Wizengamot voted to accept the testimonies of two hidden agents, stripped of identifying material, and ratified their standing as Ministry Agents in Good Standing in short order.

The Pensieve memories of Lady Malfoy-Black were shown in court, with each of the absent defendants clearly seen planning events that led to Wizarding and muggle deaths alike. Auror witnesses gave memories of seeing Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix in action. Fractured memories from Frank Longbottom, mainly images of Alice Longbottom in the final stages of torture, were presented by the Mind Healer responsible for extracting them. There were no memories possible to retrieve from Alice Longbottom; her mind was utterly shattered.

Finally Healer Bardwell's testimony was heard, and the Pensieve memories of Remus' torture and near death at the hands of Pettigrew, retrieved from both Remus and Severus, were shown to the Wizengamot. The court was utterly silent by the time Severus' Patronus galloped out of the clearing, carrying his desperate attempt to get help for Lily and James Potter. Tears streamed down Sirius' face, as he saw for the first time how torn apart the body of his first love had been, how close to death. Severus' collapse as he used almost the very last of his magic to try and save Lily and James tore a heartbroken gasp from both his mates. Sitting across the chamber Severus felt an irresistible call to his bondmates, and Wizengamot members silently stood to allow him unimpeded access as he made his way to them.

The verdicts were predictable. Each was sentenced to death by the Veil, and Aurors were granted authority to kill each of the convicted terrorists if they could not be brought in alive. Their vaults were confiscated, and their properties ordered sold to pay reparations to their victims. Mycroft announced that Bellatrix had been cast from the House of Black, and her personal vaults, once cleared of dark Artifacts, were offered in reparations. 

A proposal that both Remus and Severus be given the Order of Merlin, First Class, was proposed by Lady Longbottom and passed unanimously. 

The triad, lost in their bond, barely noticed. Nor did they notice when Dumbledore strode, fuming, from the Moot Chamber the second the Court session was ended, or when the reporters streamed from the gallery. Screened from the cameras by the courtroom guards, they were gently ushered from the chamber through the back rooms. 

Mycroft portkeyed them home.


	24. Reactions

"...Shoppers in Diagon Alley were unanimous in their opinion that War Hero Lord Prince-Black was the only possible choice to raise the Boy Saviour..."

"Leave it alone, Sirius", sighed Severus. The kitchen table was piled high with newspapers and letters, pre-checked for security by the Department of Mysteries. "You know we won't be getting the Howlers and death threats, but I guarantee the Department got at least this many."

"Actually, you'd be surprised. If you wanted to run for Minister today, you'd probably get in," Mycroft stated. "Of course, with the current climate, anyone who thinks anything outside the Prophet's propaganda is going to keep it to themselves for a while. We've only had to trace twelve death threats, which is pretty good for a polarising public figure."

Severus groaned even more, sinking his head onto his arms. Sirius stood and came up behind him, massaging his neck and deliberately brushing over the mate Mark to soothe him.

"I don't want to be a public figure, any more than Remus wants to be 'the Modern Face of Lycanthropy', or whatever damn stupid phrase Witch Weekly came up with. And I swear that if another piece about 'Eligible Bachelor Sirius Black' comes out then Remus is going to be The Face That Ripped Apart Our Editor. For fuck's sake, our bond is registered at the Ministry as well as Gringotts now. Frankly, I'm grateful it's mid month, because any nearer to full moon he'd be staking his claim on you in the offices of Broomstick Boys."

Sirius sniggered. Mycroft merely sighed.

"Ok, I'm knackered", announced Remus, coming into the room. He eyed the table full of papers as if they were all unexploded Howlers. "Is there anything there that actually needs a response, or is it just blather and fan mail?"

"The latter", replied Severus. "Ignore Siri, he thinks it's all great fun. Trust me, you don't want to read any of it."

"Fine by me." A casual wave of his hand had the papers flying into the fireplace. A wordless 'incendio' from Sev soon had a brief, but intense, fire going as Sirius pouted. "Don't sulk, Siri. Go and entertain the boys. Harry has been showing off his colour spell to Draco, and Draco's damn near to getting it himself. Try and change his hair back before his mother sees him, for Merlin's sake."

"Do I want to know? asked Severus. Remus laughed softly, and took up the neck massage he'd seen Sirius doing. Severus sighed softly as he practically melted under his Alpha's touch. "No, love", chuckled Remus, dropping a kiss on the top of Severus' head. "Siri just needs to play for a bit. Yesterday hurt him, and he's been trying too hard to be normal today. The kids will help. I've been wondering if Draco has some baby empath ability we should work with. He's very soothing to be around, particularly since the unbinding, and it's really noticeable between him and Harry. I've been expecting him to be fretful since seeing James and Lily in the spheres, but between you and Draco, he's just...Harry. The two of them will help Siri relax."

"Your trial duties are ended." Mycroft noted. "We need to get you all to a point now where we can get you out of the country. Narcissa and Draco complicated the transit plans somewhat, but we think we've got a workable route now. However, it will involve travelling as muggles, while Gringotts handles your possessions. My counterpart in the Muggle Ministry has obtained passports for you all, which are like Letters of Authorisation to allow you to cross Muggle borders. These are what are called Diplomatic passports, which apparently gives you extra privileges, including the right not to have your bag examined as long as it doesn't leave your person. It means you can travel with your wand and potions at hand. We can get you on an aeroplane to take you to the Americas, from which we can portkey you in to the Magical Commonwealth of America."

"Have you ever been on an aeroplane Remus?" asked Severus.

"Once, before I was turned. We went to the south of France on holiday, but I don't remember much about it, other than it was noisy and it took ages to get to the plane. Plus we lost one of the suitcases, so my parents were in a bad mood for the first half of the week."

"It will be a little different. I get the sense I was meant to be very impressed by the plane that their contact in G Branch can get you on. He said it would get you to New York in three and a half hours, but he said it as if that was something to astound me. However, the plane company is used to dealing with sensitive clients, and I was assured of discretion. It's not as convenient as the portkey route we had set up, but it has the advantage of not being something Bellatrix or, for that matter, Dumbledore will think of."

"At the moment I don't know who to be more scared of. Bellatrix will be unhinged by now; they all know there's a Kill Order on them all, so while Peter by himself would do his best to disappear, I think the other two won't have anything to lose. I don't know what Voldemort's fighting abilities actually are, but when you are as good at and as fast with the killing curse as he is, I don't imagine he has much to worry about. Dumbledore, on the other hand, is extremely good at duelling, and extremely pissed off with me. And probably you, for that matter", added Severus. 

Mycroft waved his hand dismissively. "Dumbledore has seen me do that party trick before to Lucius, amongst other undesirables. He knows I'm perfectly neutral, for the most part, and I control the neutral block pretty solidly by now. He won't think it's personal, just me being the usual stickler for points of order. The trick is to sound terribly bored, and look terribly boring, and no one believes you have any personal opinions, just a passion for the Law. The LeStrange brothers and Crouch Junior are due in court after I intend for you all to be out of the country, and once he's seen me destroy them through points of order he'll remember I am boringly evenhanded."

"Well, I'll call a pack meeting tonight', confirmed Remus. "I expect Narcissa will need a couple of days to get her Malfoys sworn in to House Malfoy-Black. We haven't tried being any further apart than in the Moot Hall yet, and you saw how that worked under stress. She wants them to affirm to Sirius, and Severus wants to meet up with Luciano again, then we need to speak with Andromeda. Once the family politics have been sorted out, we need to confirm you and Andromeda as our proxies, and I think Narcissa is going to ask Luciano to hold House Malfoy-Black in Draco's name. She'll still be Regent, but it will spare her having to deal with all the minor stuff other than a return annually for the Ward ritual. We can cover Houses Potter, Prince and Black's between us, for the most part, as we'll be more directly in contact with you and the Department. We should be good to go by the weekend, which will give me time to set up a safe place for next weekend's full moon."

"Agreed", came a faint rumble from Severus, his head still cushioned on his arms as Remus worked his way down his back. 

"Alright then", Mycroft briskly stated. "I'll have the transport organised for Sunday. Ragnok wants to see you later about accessing your accounts internationally, and you're invited to Holmes Grove for dinner tomorrow with Sherrinford and Sherlock. As Severus will let you know, Sherlock is challenging, but he's setting up connections here that will be very useful, and he is incredibly loyal to those he chooses to exasperate. Putting him in the same room with Sirius Black is either the best or the worst idea I've had for a long time, and sadly we won't know which is which until the explosions start, and possibly not even then."

Luckily Severus was too boneless to react. It should be interesting when he came back round. Mycroft smirked to himself, and left for the office.

\--------

The sheepskin rug by the hearth had been expanded to provide sufficient space for all three, and Severus in particular enjoyed the feel of it on his bare skin. Idly he wondered if Mycroft would mind them taking it with them. It smelled of his mates to his sensitive nose, and he felt absurdly possessive of it. Moments like this, when they lay curled up on it, lost in their afterglow, it felt like a little island that was all theirs.

He pushed back a little into the curve of Siri's embrace, and the arm crooked around him tightened in response. Warm golden eyes turned to look into his as Remus stroked his hair. He'd never felt so loved, so protected, as he did with these men. In three weeks all their lives had been irrevocably changed, and though he would miss James and Lily forever, he knew he had their love and hopes for him to thank for this moment of bliss. His hand tangling gently in his Alpha's chest hair, he angled his face for the kiss he would never be denied, the warmth of the man who had become his rock behind him.

He'd speak to Mycroft about the rug tomorrow.


	25. Family Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter today to catch up with Fumbles!

"Lady Longbottom, Lord Fawley, I'm sorry I don't have better news for you. While we may be able to restore Frank's mind to a limited extent, there is, sadly, nothing left of Alice's mind to work with. In layman terms, she is like those who have been attacked by Dementors, in that although her body still lives, her self awareness, her memories, her capacity to retain information and experiences are all gone."

Lord Fawley was trembling in his chair next to Augusta, who was mildly disgusted at the show of emotion. His voice was cracked and wavering as he asked 'Is there no hope? No potions, no spells possible?"

The Healer looked grave. "I am so sorry, but no. Alice has already gone. Her body might last two, three years with Healer aid, but would already have started failing without our intervention. The body cannot keep working without brain function, and Alice has none." He took a deep breath to steady himself for what came next. "Our recommendation is that you let Alice go peacefully. Keeping her body alive until organ failure would be harmful, not only to Alice, but to all who loved her, drawing out this most painful part of the grieving process needlessly. In these type of cases, we would recommend giving Alice's body to the Veil and allowing her to pass in peace. It is a painless process, according to the few ghosts that have passed that way over the centuries with unfinished business, who have been kind enough to allow their experiences to be shared with St Mungo's in the interests of sparing families such as yourselves further heartache. The other alternative, of course, is to apply for an Unspeakable Euthaniser to perform the killing curse, which is similarly painless, although many families find that option unpalatable. However, Alice's condition does fit the euthanising criteria."

Lord Fawley gave a low moan of anguish. Augusta steeled herself, and reached out to pat his knee. "Bertram, we need to focus, and do what is best for poor Alice. Personally, I believe that as an Auror she would prefer the Killing Curse. She was, after all, killed in spirit and mind while on duty, and this way seems to me to respect the battle wounds she endured. Of course, it's up to you and Ethel, but I know that is what Frank would have wanted, had he been able to make this decision for her."

He controlled his sobs, blinking hard to clear his eyes and shifted in his chair. "I believe you are right, Augusta. We will let her battle end with dignity, and give her a hero's funeral. Healer, I would like to authorise the application now, if you have the document, and then I will leave to begin the funeral preparations and help my wife." 

He signed the parchment and shakily stood, tipping his hat to Augusta and the Healer, before leaving the room. Augusta looked at the Healer, fully composed. "Now, with Alice's fate decided, tell me what you can do for my son."

\----------

"... and so they think that, with constant therapy and tailored potions, they'll be able to raise him to the mental age of 6, 7 at most. Apparently they adore him, he's like a three year old at the moment, and he was a fairly cute kid at that age, I recall." 

"Well, that's something, I suppose" mumbled Dumbledore. Algie always wanted to talk after sex. It was one of his most endearing qualities, if spilling informative gossip about half of the Sacred Twenty-Eight could be termed endearing, but their infrequent couplings always provided some jewels of information along with the physical release.

"No it bloody isn't", muttered Algie, savagely. "The bitch plans to fob him off on some family with a pug ugly daughter, desperate to maintain their House line even if it means turning some poor cow into a carer for a manchild who wants to spend his days playing gob stones while riding him at night to get knocked up. I didn't spend all that work cursing the brat he's already got into a near squib for some new bride popping out heir alternatives right, left and centre." 

"Neville, right? You cursed him? Won't that be obvious? Hexes were never your strongest suit as I remember, Algie dear."

Algernon Longbottom wriggled back against his fuck buddy. "No, it was a really obscure charm Luscious Luc found in his Library. Don't ever piss off a Malfoy, Albus, they have curses and charms for anything you could think of going back centuries, and a history of extremely compliant Heirs, if they know what's good for them. There was a charm he found that siphons off magical energy and converts it into fat, would you believe, so you end up with a fat squib who dies by the age of thirty from the heart giving out. Simply beautiful. Couldn't resist it. So my dear Nevvy will be totally unable to use the Family Magics, renew or handle the wards or the Sacred Grove. And in steps Uncle Algie, reluctantly but resolutely, picking up the burdens of Lordship. I'll get some pretty, brainless breeder of my own, get a couple of brats, then it's 'oh what a tragic accident', consoled by longstanding friend, surprise bonding after a suitable mourning period, job done."

Dumbledore perked up a little at that, his prick giving a little interested twitch. Lord Consort of Longbottom? Even a Dowager Lord Consort would still hold considerable sway amongst the Twenty-Eight. 

"I might be able to help out with this, love. There are some painless potions that can be used to limit or end fertility that I've heard of. Of course, it would mean getting access to Frank..."

"Oh, you naughty man", cooed Algie."I can't see that being a problem. I'm sure that Frank will love to see his favourite uncle soon." He wriggled his butt enticingly against Dumbledore's answering hardness. A low chuckle answered him, as a hand snaked round to stroke his sac. "Aren't you his only Uncle, Algie dear?"

\--------

The house-elf, Turnip, or Parsnip or whatever ridiculous name it had, hurried to throw open the nursery curtains as Augusta Longbottom strode into the room, appraising the size and ignoring the stirring figure of her grandson in the cot. She would need to have the room extended to fit a bed for Frank in there, as his original bedroom had long been cleared out and closed down. The nursery was on the far end of the floor beneath her own bedroom, so she wouldn't be bothered by either of the children fussing, but it would need a bathroom big enough to bathe a full size adult, and an adjoining bedroom for a carer of some sort, a wife at some stage. 

Once the nursery elf had shut up the snotty-nosed brat whimpering behind her, she'd have it pass her instructions to the head elf to start the work. She looked sternly at her crying grandson. "Neville, be quiet. I will see you later at the usual time." Sweeping back out, she made plans for the next few weeks. A trip away while the building was being adapted, of course, so she didn't have to listen to the noise, perhaps to Albania to see if her source was correct and that Voldemort creature had had property there. Alice's funeral, of course. Gringotts to confirm her Regency sooner rather than later. Kicking Algie up the arse to pick a bride and show some Name loyalty at last. And of course, she'd have to carefully start putting feelers out amongst the Families to find someone suitable for Frank. A Half-Blood looking to marry up, perhaps. 

\--------

"Hello Frankie", crooned Algernon Longbottom, to his nephew who was currently stacking blocks with the intense concentration of a threeyear old. Frank looked up and smiled a sweetly innocent smile. "Remember me? I'm Uncle Algie, come to play with you, just like I used to when you were little!" This clearly tickled the 23 year old toddler, and he held out his arms towards the older man. The nurse quietly closed the door behind her. How lovely to see that Frankie, as they all called him, had such a loving Uncle, that would actually come in and play with him. So different from some of the patients on the Janus Thickey ward, whose visitors had tapered away once the usual period of wailing and weeping was over. They had worried a little, because Lady Longbottom was so haughty, but the man sitting on the floor in there, playing with wooden blocks, gave one hope for all wizard kind. The others on the nursing team would be so touched. Wonder if he was single?

\---------

Neville crawled after Perdy, who was deadheading flowers in the ornamental floral clock. She looked round and smiled to see the look on the toddler's face as he reached out a pudgy hand and stroked the nearest flower to him. She cast a quick warming charm over him, now that he had left the spelled blanket behind him. This part of the garden had year round charms in order to keep the flower beds in bloom, but even so it was a little cool for the boy. Such a sweet little master, and he loved being out here with her, rather than being in the somewhat gloomy nursery with its old fashioned furniture and heavy curtains. Maybe with winter fast approaching, she could move some of the safer plants indoors for him to see in his room, what with the sight of the flowers and greenery giving him so much pleasure. She smiled as the toddler warbled importantly at her, telling her his thoughts about the pretty flowers no doubt. As she worked, she filled in her side of the conversation, 'agreeing' that yes, the nasturtiums were very pretty, and were lovely in a salad if he wanted to try that. Such a lovely little master, so easy to please, so little trouble.


	26. The One And Only Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I am to get this chapter up! It has been written for MONTHS, but it needed, NEEDED to go here. So, three chapters in a week, just so I could get this to you :)

The squat was just another one of Thatcher's shit heaps, but the call had gone out that there were underage kids dossing there this time, and it was Greg and Martin's turn to try and convince them to clean up before the rent boy recruiters picked them up instead. It was one of those shitty details, where a routine come-along-then-son could turn into a knife fight in the blink of an eye, depending on what was whizzing around the little twerps' excuse for brains. The teams took it in turns, no trade offs, because while it was often a nightmare, and mind numbingly dull at times, rarely there was that shining moment when you found that kid who wasn't too fucked up not to be frightened and longing to go back home to the frantic parents who'd had to report their child missing, perhaps months ago. You lived for moments like that. 

This one was weird. You occasionally got the kid who got spun out and started drawing on the walls in their own blood, or needed to deconstruct the tatty sofa thread by sticky thread. This place had a cleaner. One of the kids had gone off his face and started cleaning the kitchen. Like, toothbrush between the floor tiles clean. Like, his mum would approve clean. The bathroom was the same way. No, scratch that, the bathroom was better than at his Mum's. The bathroom looked sodding new. The living room smelled of rat piss, old pizza and spilled Special Brew, but the bathroom would make his mum cry tears of pride. He was half tempted to give the little space cadet a job sorting out the station.

The kids in the front room had been ushered out to the waiting social workers, ready to be taken down to the station. Apparently Shirley was still out of it in one of the back rooms. They'd let Shirley sleep in, because Shirley had done the cleaning and was probably 'completely fucked'. Shirley had also told Dave and Ivan to fuck off, and they had, amazingly enough. Four sets of eyes, none older than fourteen, had stared at them, still in wonder at that one. Greg hoped Shirley would be one of the shining ones too. The kids in here were young enough to make it, and this Shirley seemed like the key.

The hallway carpet was sticking to his shoes. Martin was pulling his fastidious face again to try and raise a laugh, but although the kids were all pretty clear it was Just Shirley in the back, you didn't get to be an old cop by blindly trusting teenage druggies. The first room was oddly tidy, for a flophouse - not tidy like the kitchen, but the mattresses on the floor were clean, if not new, and the furniture was laid out like, well, a dorm room sprang to mind. There were even curtains. It was empty, with three small mattresses. There were marks on the carpet showing there had been more at one point, but no old mattresses lying outside, oddly. Junkies weren't usually socially conscious enough to take out the trash.

Greg found himself, stupidly, knocking on the door, calling through "Shirley, it's the police. Are you up?" Amazingly enough, this wasn't followed by the sound of a chair smashing through a window as a young junkie tried to make a new exit, but as Martin looked incredulously at him Greg just shrugged helplessly. The idea of just walking in without permission seemed unthinkable for some reason, and he did notice that Martin wasn't making free with the door handle either. There were, however, the usual waking up, stretching, yawning and sock-finding noises going on on the other side of the door, and the two young detectives found they were quite happy to wait. Greg fought off the urge to go and make a cup of tea, if he was quite honest. At which point the door flew open, and a long haired, tall gangly lad completely unlike who Greg was expecting looked him straight in the eye and said "Interesting. But no tea. Annoying. This way."

Trailing along in his wake, Greg and Martin shot slightly embarrassed looks at each other. Inside though, Greg was thrilled. This was interesting. And completely unexpected. Also, a nice cup of tea sounded perfect just then.

\----------

There had been tea, Earl Grey, at that, which was not your usual flophouse fare. It was Sherlock, not Shirley, but apparently it wasn't the worst version of a nickname Sherlock had heard. A former Greg-The-Smeg, Smeggie to his friends, even, had to agree with him on that one. Like every junkie under the sun he was Dreadfully Offended to be thought of as a drug addict, and while a urine test and arm exam would usually point out that particular worldview was somewhat off, he didn't show the usual tells. Oh, he was talking twelve to the dozen, and those long hands were doing as much talking as his mouth, but unlike most space cadets he was rational with it, and not twitching every two seconds. He'd moved into the flat a week ago, he said, and wanted to get the place organised while he tried to convince 'the kids' to let him take them home. He was a bit close-mouthed about Dave and Ivan, Greg noted.

Sherlock stopped and looked at him. "Oh, you are interesting. It's as if you have two compartments in your mind, possibly more. I can see you are actually listening to me, but you're also making little notes and working out what needs following up on at the same time, without losing track. Yes. I like that. I'll come with you for that." He jerked his thumb back at Martin. "He's mostly thinking about he'd rather have a cuppa at the station than this poncy shite. Not following me at all. Come on, grab the tea and we'll go get your friend some cuppa, and you can tell me what 'poncy shite' means."

\--------

By the time they got to the station Sherlock had asked for more examples of Poncy Shite than Martin could think to give him, and Greg was half killing himself with laughter. Trying to explain that it was 'the difference between Tiswas and Swap Shop' had meant less than nothing to a boy who appeared to have never even heard of television, much less watched it on a Saturday morning, and Sherlock had basically concluded that he, and everything he liked, was Poncy Shite, and was now trying to get Martin to define himself as the reverse in two words. Martin, who came from a very nice home with parents who would be horrified to hear he thought of himself as working class, was having quite a bit of difficulty with a definition that wouldn't insult either Sherlock, himself or Greg, let alone his mum. And Greg was convinced all the way to the bone that Sherlock was completely aware of the mental mess he'd got the usually unflappable Martin into, and was having enormous fun. He was also quite convinced that Sherlock had never seen a telly in his life, which made him interesting.

They got into the office, and Martin ambled off amiably enough to bring Sherlock a proper cup of tea. Derek was sitting in the office with an open case file, and agreed to watch the kid while Greg went to make his verbal report and then check in on the booking of the younger kids, with the list of 'probable names and home areas' that Sherlock had given him over their tea in the sparkling kitchen. He wasn't entirely sure how you got 'Robert Johnson, private school educated, one older brother, probably from Canterbury' from 'Jezza', but if it helped... He was just winding up with the head social worker, after, amazingly enough, all four names had matched kids on the Register, when Derek came looking for him, a bit wild around the eyes. Greg was beginning to suspect this was normal for people who came into contact with Sherlock for any prolonged period, but Derek was practically dragging him back to the office and shutting the door behind him. "Tell Greg what you just told me", he demanded.

Turns out that Sherlock had agreed with Greg that the dead families were connected by more than a maiden name and a young child.The killers were looking for a specific young family, but didn't know enough about them to get the right one. He had also theorised that it was a school enmity issue, which made sense if you factored in the killers might not know a married name of a grown up rival girl. It was definitely a girl, Sherlock insisted. Quite apart from boys often left old rivalries in the dust they shook of their shoes when leaving school for the last time, males also rarely changed their name. Girls, however, changed their names and held grudges.

Short of writing to every woman between the age of 17 and 35 who had held the maiden name of Evans and now had a husband and baby son, it was proving difficult to tighten the net on the killers, particularly as the victim profile had changed. The first six sets of murders, the women had been redheads and the men tall brunets.The latest set of connected slayings had only had the maiden name in connection. The last one, for instance, the man had been been grossly fat. For some reason, Sherlock was adamant that this was the family that had been sought, which meant the spree was at an end, and all the evidence there was was all they were going to get. He cited the level of violence at the crime scene as evidence of his theory. 

Greg had absolutely no difficulty in believing Derek had quite happily shown a 17 year old kid crime scene photos, even though Derek was sitting mumbling to himself how the captain was going to have his balls. He was also unsurprised that the kid wasn't at all distressed by the photos; not in an oh god, sociopath in the room way, but in a way he himself was familiar with. The photos showed clues. Clues kept life interesting. The pin boards around the room had been rearranged, he noticed, probably while he was explaining it all to Derek and Martin, and the new arrangement supported his logic. From Cokeworth to Surrey, the cases were laid out in chronological order, with connecting lines explaining the seemingly random choices the killers had made.

Martin looked across the room at him. "You want him, you clear him with the Captain. As long as he uses his litter tray and doesn't play with dead mice, you can keep him, but he's your responsibility Greg. I won't take him out for walks if you forget."

Rather impressively, he dodged both books thrown at him from different angles.

\-----------

Sherlock Holmes didn't show up on any missing children's register, didn't have any needle marks, had a slightly off urine sample, though the doc was buggered if he could say why, and swore up and down that he was an honest to god orphan. He was also 17, 'so under the age of consent, Greg', which, piss-poor jokes in bad taste aside, meant that he was too old for the foster care system, and too young to be living alone: evidence in point, one grotty flophouse. He'd also got his hooks well and truly into Greg within one day. 

The jokes were not quite jokes; as a copper Greg knew damn well that the age of consent for people like him was 21. He'd also never come out to his colleagues, to the point of going on 'dates' with girls who were passing for straight as much as he was, and being manfully stiff upper lipped when, after a cautious year or so, the 'relationship didn't quite work out'. At 26, he himself was in no legal danger, unless he took the wrong man back to his flat, but his job had given him an eye for a fake ID, and he always, always checked. The problem was, he worked with cops. Damn good cops, friends one and all, and fairly open minded with the people they arrested, no funny business with stairs or the wrong cell mate in his nick; but that was also the point. They arrested poor sods who'd picked up the wrong twink every damn weekend since he'd been a cop. And there had been, not exactly comments, but murmurs, that somehow Greg, bloody good cop, would trust him to have my back in a second, had never made that sort of arrest.

Not once.

He couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew how easy it was to get caught out; had seen more fake ids than real ones some weekends, but if you didn't have the training then it was totally the luck of the draw. London was bloody incestuous, everybody fucking the same people that had been on the scene at least four years and were therefore, probably, safe. You fucked friends of friends, people who were vouched for, and you fucked them again even if you didn't want to date them, because what else could you do other than go after the new guy in the corner who looked like sin personified, 18 if you were lucky, and risk your career? Because cop, stockbroker or plumber, you got sent down for fucking a guy 20 years and 10 months old and calling himself 21; you lost your job same as if you'd robbed the corner store.

But cops noticed your arrests. And while Greg who was dating that lovely Angela, isn't she a peach, could probably get away with an oddity in his record, Greg who dated lovely Angela but shared his house with 17 year old Sherlock was going to get looked at, and looked into. And the only way being looked into in depth like that was going to fly is if there was nothing, Nothing to find. No tells. Midnight raids were still a thing for inappropriate relationships being reported, although not often from his station. 

Mentally he groaned. He was getting ahead of himself. Overthinking things as usual. He had nothing to go on to suggest Sherlock was even gay, hadn't even asked him yet if he wanted the spare room till he got back on his feet and presumably through school, hadn't asked his Captain if there were any regulations to be followed, a polite fiction for asking if he was going to get his arse kicked five ways from Sunday for even hinting at his private life. He was getting hot under the collar over nothing. Nothing at all.

And then he looked up and met Sherlock's steady, knowing gaze, and knew that he was completely, irrevocably, screwed.

\--------

"It's not much, but it's mine, clean and warm", Greg said for the hundredth time as he fumbled his key in the lock. "There's a good school down the road if you want to pick up your education; I can take you down on my day off to enrol if you want. Coat cupboard is under the stairs here, living room, with a television, believe it or not, is here, that room's supposed to be a dining room but it's more like an office really, although that is a proper dining table under the pile of crap if you want to have friends round for tea. The kitchen has a microwave oven, would you believe it; my mum threw hers out when she couldn't work it out, and I brought it here instead. I mostly use it for reheating tea, if I'm honest. Stairs are here, bathroom straight ahead, feel free to clean it haha, this is my bedroom, and um, this one is yours, if you want it. Sorry about the bedding, my mum chose it."

Sherlock looked around the room, and tossed the bags of new clothes on the bed. He looked at Greg. "You talk a lot when you're nervous, did you know that? Have you worked out why that is your reaction? The room is lovely, thank you. Do you mind if I have a bath?"

Greg backed out in the doorway. He didn't know why, but making eye contact with Sherlock both calmed him mentally and set his pulse racing at the same time. " Yeah, sorry about that. I don't often have visitors, as you can tell from - no, you're right. I'm babbling. Have a nice bath. I'll get some supper on."

He'd been downstairs for five minutes, listening to the sounds of someone else in the house, the pottering back and forth as the bath filled, the splash of someone getting into the bath, the amplified sound of a blissful 'aaaaah' as a tired body slipped into warm water. The sound of a car backfiring didn't really fit into that, but Greg simply nodded to himself and carried his tea into the front room. He put the television on.

\-----------

"So Bellatrix started in Cokeworth, probably got enough information there to be honest, then killed her way across England to Surrey and the Dursley's. I'm pretty sure the others were mainly for fun, but also to make Lily Potter feel guilty if we'd known about the killings. The problem is, there's no one making those connections between muggle crimes and ours, so they have no structure to pass it along, and we just don't notice."

"And you think you can do something about that. You and this Lestrade chap. Any relation to our Lestrades?"

"Going by the eye shape and finger lengths, almost certainly. He's got something, My, I don't know how to explain it, but if I'm next to him, I can focus. I mean, really focus, on one thing, not having to do six things at once in order to get it all out there. It's beautiful. I looked at the evidence after having been in the car with him for 20 minutes, and I could see all the patterns at once. And I could explain myself, My. To muggles! I could explain it, and they mostly could follow, and Greg followed it all and understood me. No one understands me! Only you and Sherri, and even then it wasn't like this; this was like flying with my feet on the ground."

"You will have to be careful, Sherlock. Their world has some outdated rules, and without breaking the Secrecy of Magic Statute, I can't do much to protect him if he's who you want. I can come round and get wards up to give you warning, but it's a muggle house: there are limits. You might have to bring him into our world pretty swiftly if it goes wrong, and our world isn't going to employ a muggle as an Auror."

"I know, and I won't jeopardise him. I can still work on the informant network idea, but this will be better as I'll get official as well as street information. Flitwick will be thrilled if I go part time with him; I was running him ragged as it was, and I'll just withdraw from Hogwarts rather than go back on the Express on Monday."

Mycroft thought for a moment. Sherlock's proposal was well founded, albeit on short notice, but this was his little brother he was dealing with. It would solve a number of problems, not least keeping him sane and functioning at Hogwarts, something Flitwick already had expressed grave doubts about his ability to do. The idea of a Ministry/Muggle Crime division would be easy to implement, his superiors already being aware of Sherlock's abilities. This path would please them and hopefully help popularise such departments throughout the magical commonwealth. He even had a suggestion or two for his contacts in America...'

\--------

Anyone not listening for it wouldn't have noticed the simultaneous sound of cars backfiring. Greg had been listening out for it, however, and as Sherlock raised his voice in song (and he really had a rather lovely voice. Just as long as he didn't play the violin or something equally dreadful) Greg made his way to the front door and opened it. "Mr Holmes, I presume? Why don't you come inside where it's warm, and have a cup of tea. I'll let Sherlock know we have company."


	27. Time's Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is running out for both sides...

For the life of her Bellatrix could not remember the address. The fucking traitor had obviously hidden it under Fidelius, and unless Peter could get the drop on the wolf again, would probably stay that way until she took the time herself to lovingly peel the skin from her dear cousin's body. With a spoon. 

Holmes-Prince properties had always been unplottable; the Family had been famous in pureblood circles for their paranoia from before her Great-Grandfather's time. Everyone knew that Snivellus was a by blow from that house; her Lord would be coldly furious, though unsurprised, that the Wizengamot had recognised the traitor as Lord Prince. Her scumbag cousin had shamed the Twenty-Eight for generations to come for placing the prissy potions slimeball on the Moot, but even worse, recognising his Mudblood wolf not only as his lover, which would be shame enough on the Family, but making him Lord Fucking Consort and giving him one of the Family Seats. The seat he'd taken back from Rudy, no less, just to add insult to personal injury.

Removing her from her House had invalidated her marriage. Not that she loved Rudolphus, particularly, although they understood each other, but that meant she was cut off from the LeStrange houses as well as the Black. Most importantly, she couldn't access Rudy's vaults either. She'd need the rat to get into Azkaban before her ex husband lost his mind to get him to authorise transfers from her marital vault to Pettigrew, assuming it reverted to Rudy and not the traitor, as well as authorise deposits in one of the minor Eastern Europe banks for her to build up a war chest. Nott had been her Lord's financier, so he would be able to set the paperwork up for her once she had forced him to adopt her into his House. It was either him or Pettigrew, and she wouldn't trust that rat with money, let alone her blood. As a Nameless she couldn't open an account anywhere in the Wizarding world, and until she could get Rudy and Bast out and, if not remarried, then blood adopted; she needed that damage repairing.

Her first priority was, after a little bit of personal fun time, was to get Rudy, Bast and Barty out. Without his money, Lucius wasn't a priority, although she'd put him on the list as a potential for his list of contacts. He'd likely have to be dissuaded from seeking too much personal revenge straight away, whereas her boys would be more focused.

Everyone was entitled to a little personal revenge, however. The Evans chase, fun though it was, had been a project of her Lord's that she had willingly undertaken. It was a safe bet that the Potter child had nowhere on his Mudblood mother's side to hide, but the project was unnecessary now that the aunt was dead and the truth about his parentage was out there. Two Mudblood whores rutting together, and James Potter cuckolded, and now the child was under the protection of her ex cousin. Well, she would break down every damn Fidelius on every single house and business the Black Family owned, and as for her ex sisters, their whelps and their inlaws, they would simply send the message that Blood Treachery would be an extremely dangerous proposition for any of their world to indulge in.

Four am. Even the vampires were drowsy by now, so as Bellatrix, Pettigrew and the Carrows apparated to the first Tonks property, no-one was around to see the opening salvo of the New Dawn.

No one important, at any rate. The funny little muggle cart driver really didn't count.

\--------

It was quite a precise apparition required to land within the shadow of the doorway of 12, Grimmauld Place, and Sirius wasn't used to it by himself. At least his apparition was whisper quiet - once a Marauder, always a Marauder, and they prided themselves on being quieter than Dumbledore. The opening spell was wandless and silent - they had both been extensively tested on that, and while Andy had her own unlocking spell now, the old 'cousins' lock disabled, only the Head of the House could change this one, and only those in direct line could use it. His mother had been a little indiscriminate with hers, and had been restricted to Floo entry when Sirius had been 13. The rows about that had been epic, and Sirius was quite sure Regulus had placed her portrait opposite the front door to continue rubbing it in that she couldn't use it. The wardstone now embedded in Ted's left hand, enabling him to use both the Floo and the door, must really piss her off. Mycroft was a continual source of surprises, but that had been a nifty little bit of spell work, finding the tiny trace of magic he had to blood bind the stone to him so that even if Bellatrix chopped his hand off, she couldn't use it.

The problem was that Number 12 wasn't set up for muggles, and while Ted had a thread of magic in him - ironically, the metamorphmagus ability was found nowhere in the Black line, meaning it was either spontaneous or carried by him - his mother had none whatsoever, and could only get into their new home if she was physically escorted one way or another. Old or not, the formidable widow would not consent to being trapped in one building, and a muggle being escorted out of thin air would raise more than a few eyebrows. It was a problem Andy was going to have to sort out, and soon, and for anyone else in Ted's family. 

The Dark Marks hanging over their old home, Ted's office building and worst of all, Nymphadora's primary school, proved that.

\--------

Scriveners and Black in Hogsmeade were doing a roaring trade, as usual on a Hogwarts weekend. Sure, no business in the small town did as well as Honeydukes, but you could only get so many students in that small shop at once, and on the last student shopping weekend before Yule even the most book averse remembered they had relatives that might require more than a box of fudge to keep sweet. The only way business could have improved would be if it started raining once they were all safely in spending distance, and the screams from outside indicated to Jonas Scrivener that, Merry Christmas and Blessed Yule indeed, the rain had just started lashing it down.

It was only when the screams grew louder that he went to the window to see what was going on, just in time to see the green light hurtling towards him.

\---------

Eleanor sat in the chair holding the crying toddler tightly against her bump as the man from, oh, it didn't matter, she couldn't remember... He told her that Dennis was dead. That he'd been shot. Who shoots a milkman? He'd seen to Colin for her, told her not to get up, he had to get up for work anyway, he'd changed Colin's nappy and left their home to get to the dairy, and someone had shot him, and now he'd never know what the doctor had said yesterday. She couldn't remember why she'd wanted to wait until Sunday to tell him, now.

The man was so thoughtful though. Complimented her on Colin. Even held him for her when she began to shake; right up to when her mum and dad arrived. At least there were some nice people left in the world.

\----------

The rat scurried along the rocky corridors of the island fortress. Getting inside the bag of the LeStrange lawyer had been child's play, and Bellatrix had demanded with her usual level of people management that the unfortunate man visit his two most distasteful clients today. While he was getting Rudolphus to sign all manner of Gringotts forms, Peter had headed off to find Barty, the little pouch Lily had charmed for him as a graduation present held firmly in his mouth. In it's WizardSpace interior was Peter's own second wand, which he'd better be getting back, and two bottles of Polyjuice potion. Barry's parents were scheduled for the Pre-Kiss visitation on Thursday, and a couple of Unforgivables and his impersonating his mother would ensure the Dementors would claim their due as scheduled, while his father could help his clearly grieving 'wife' out to the boat before the body was thrown in the Pit to await death. 

Peter himself would be back this way on Wednesday as soon as he'd secured the necessary portkeys. The LeStrange brothers would be receiving their coded instructions of how to get outside the wards and down to the dock using their lawyer as a regrettably disposable hostage, although if he grew some smarts between now and then Peter was pretty sure he'd send a junior. Whatever. Policy meant the Dementors would be down by the dock, but they would only need a second to shove the spare body at them before the portkeys could be activated by their own saliva to yank them off island and to the first safe house. The only unknown variable would be if the Ministry brought forwards the Kiss ceremony for Barty, but his father had enough clout still that they were counting on him not being further inconvenienced by time changes. The lockdown save for the condemn ex's family on K-Days meant the LeStranges were going to have to be freed before midnight.

Lucius would have to wait until the fallout from the brother's escape had passed. Hopefully he wouldn't be completely insane by then.

\---------

Alfie Bones had been flooed to the Trewissick safe house, with Luciano Di Malfoy, and thankfully had agreed to act as proxy for the Black voting bloc, the paperwork for which was horrendously complicated. A contemporary of Mycroft at Hogwarts, the man was known as scrupulously fair, and had no ties to either Dumbledore or Voldemort, holding his family as neutral as Switzerland. Adding to his appeal, his sister was Susan Belby, a Lycanthrope of both Remus' and Severus' acquaintance, though older than both, and her brother was a known advocate of Were Rights. The Black votes would form a very useful part of his strategy in this, and the Triad were happy to allow him to use these at his discretion as long as he agreed to be bound by Oath to vote as directed on issues they held equally as important.

Sirius' absence, though necessary, had complicated the meeting, and there had been an anxious wait until he returned from Andy and Ted's just in time to sign the paperwork before the filing deadline for the next day. It was clear the Wizengamot would be called in to discuss the terrorist attacks of the day, and given that by this time tomorrow they would be on a plane both Alfie and Luciano needed to have his signatures ratifying their representative proxies. Narcissa had signed as far as she was able, but with Draco's House and Lordship being under the protection of the Houses Of Black and Holmes there were certain authorities that had to be given in blood by all four of the family representatives before her proxy could be ratified as having transferred. 

A nanny elf had been selected from both the Potter and Malfoy house elves, which would be fun until the households could be separated. Tweedle and Pickle, who had been James' own nanny elf, had begged to be allowed to accompany Harry, and while Lily had not asked for Pickle to care for Harry herself while she had been at home with him, Severus acknowledged that he would need time to work on potions without worrying for Harry's safety. One could not be taken without the other; their eldest son would make an excellent Head Elf for the Potter estates, and given that both Siri and Remus rhapsodised about Tweedle's cooking Severus was happy to take both and have them bond to all three men. Narcissa was taking four. Merlin only knew what they would do all day.

\---------

Severus was immensely glad for the two elves by the time they'd made it to the muggle airport the next morning. It was truly impressive how much stuff they'd accumulated for Harry and Draco in just three short weeks, not to mention his potions lab that the Malfoy elves had carefully packed up and shrunk. He'd have to get them to train Tweedle. Oddly, it had been a wrench leaving Trewissick. The room where they had bonded felt like home, and while Mycroft had kindly given them not only the rug, but the bed and the cots, he was going to miss it in a way that he had never missed a place to live before Luciano's home in Florence. They'd all stood in the doorway a little longer than expected, and it had taken Sherrinford calling up the stairs for them to get on with it for them to do that. 

It had been Sherrinford who had had them driven from the second safe house in Windsor to the airport by something called 'limousines', airily saying that it would reinforce their muggle cover to arrive at the airport in the large black cars with the butter-soft leather seats. The elves had consented to travel as pampered corgis, though privately Severus thought Narcissa had taken that idea and run with it; all of hers having pink or blue diamond collars and swirled around her feet on delicate chain leashes. She looked the very epitome of a spoilt Lady. As Mycroft had dryly pointed out, she was too eyecatching for even muggles to not take notice, so they may as well use it as part of their disguise. Swathed in white ermine, on the arm of an equally refined Sirius, three 'corgis' leashes in his hand, the dazzling pair were swept through the terminal followed by their ruefully smirking entourage of Severus and Remus, dressed in well tailored but forgettable muggle suits and each carrying a toddler with wide open eyes, and a briefcase handcuffed to their wrists. 

They were certainly eyecatching, but Sirius and Narcissa captured all the attention, both in the secured terminal and on the Concorde itself, thus deflecting it neatly away from their Heirs. It was doubtful that the muggles had even noticed their retinue, and while the glamorous duo sat at the front of the plane, demanding caviar and 'better' champagne, the children sat drowsily, thanks to calming potions, at the back with Severus and Remus for the three and a half hours they were confined to their seats. They were, of course, the first to deplane, while their 'staff' and children were quietly slipped down stairs at the rear of the airplane. They were ushered quickly to the Diplomatic Reception, causing sage nods amongst the other passengers as the couple were quickly, and rather boringly, relegated to 'foreign ambassadors from somewhere' status, and forgotten within the day.

There was one woman standing in the reception room.

"Welcome to the United States of America and its sister nation, the Wizarding and Magical Beings Commonwealth of North America. My name is Margaret Carter, and I am the Deputy Director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, otherwise known as SHIELD. I am the Head of Magical/Muggle Interactions and Development Division, no snappy acronyms there I'm afraid. I have here your citizenship papers. You will retain full citizenship with Wizarding Britain as well as within our two nations, although you will note that your muggle identification contains more banal names and cover legends. I trust you know what that means?"

Having been given a crash course in muggle behaviours and educational backgrounds, and involved in the creation of their backgrounds as much as possible, a task harder for Narcissa given her complete lack of muggle interaction, they all nodded, sparing only brief looks at the document folders passed out to them. Wordlessly, Remus held out his hand and secured them in his briefcase. Deputy Director Carter nodded approvingly. She smiled.

"My second in command will meet you at the house we have prepared for you, and he will be your point man. He has worked closely with Mr Holmes for the last few years, and is well briefed on the recent occurrences in our mutual homeland. Lady Malfoy-Black, Lord Black, Lord Prince-Black, your input will be particularly requested in building up our own dossier upon Tom Riddle's organisation and associates, and we anticipate much of your time over the next ten days will be spent with Colonel Fury. Lord Lupin-Black, we need as much information as you can give us on Were hierarchy and organisation. You are not here as a 'spouse'; your intellectual abilities have been highly recommended by Mr Holmes, so do expect to be up and working before your partners and Lady Malfoy-Black have finished their debriefing sessions."

She smiled widely at them. "Welcome to the Americas. If you and your elves would like to hold on to Lord Lupin-Black and Lord Prince-Black's briefcases, we'll be able to port you to your new home."


	28. Explorations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For El33ri, who got terribly excited about this fic when we met!

Once the door to the Great Hall had shut behind one, there was always a sense of ordered, purposeful calm in the Goblin corridors that Mycroft always enjoyed; a twin to that in the Department, though sadly lacking in the rest of the Ministry. Tasks were given, understood and processed neatly, and the great goblin machine powered on, creating order and wealth out of the chaos of the Wizarding world. 

It was his happy task to visit Ragnok once a week; the Goblins having far greater links with his Department than any other; certainly compared to the insultingly farcical Magical Creatures Liaison Department, who lumped together beings such as goblins, vampires, Were's and centaurs with kelpies, hinkypunks and hippogriffs. It had been a wise Department Head with more than a touch of Seer ability who had first made the covert Treaty with the Goblin Kingdom more than 200 years ago, and the Goblin Nation regarded the Department almost as a separate nation within the Wizarding world. Ragnok would sometimes speak fondly of her over tea, and Mycroft was rather honoured that the goblin regarded him as her natural heir. Certainly it boded well for his own future in the Department.

The artifacts found in the sweeps of Malfoy Manor, Grimmauld Place and the vault of Bellatrix Nameless were on the Director's desk. They exuded Dark Magic, and a certain grim allure, despite the warding charms that had been placed upon them. The locket and cup had been identified by the goblins as having been made by them for two of the Hogwarts Founders, Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff. The blue exercise book was the interesting one. Bound in fake leather, it was clearly a muggle artifact, bearing a label embossed with the the name 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'. Simple anagram work had quickly revealed the book's importance and explained the reason behind the malevolent presence exuded by it: 'I am Lord Voldemort'. The sort of wordplay that would amuse a teenager, perhaps. 

The identity behind the madman was revealed for the first time, although Mycroft knew that, at least for the moment, it would have to remain in-house. The goblins had been quick to pull up all the information they had, including the blood sample all vault owners had to provide for simple identity checking. Riddle was, amusingly enough, a half-blood wizard; born to the last embers of a decayed Slytherin line; no doubt explaining the significance of the locket. He had declared himself an orphan on the Gringotts paperwork, giving his previous address as a Muggle orphanage and his current, or rather, at the time of opening the vault, then address, was care of Borgin and Burkes, a dubious 'antiques' shop in Knockturn Alley. The blood spell had left his paternal family blank, so clearly they were one of those Muggle families without so much as a drop of magical blood, although, with a name like Riddle, a cross-search with the name Marvolo Gaunt should make them traceable enough. One for Sherlock's department, once it was up and running, as muggle records and all the paperwork they liked to generate could be time consuming to wade through without muggle assistance.

"The horcruxes are fairly simple to destroy, as long as one is not concerned about preserving the container", Ragnok informed him. "As little Lord Potter is host to one, though, the more usual methods of dealing with cursed artifacts; fiendfyre, basilisk or Horntail dragons' venom, gorgon blood and so on are, naturally, not available. Cursebreaker Gracklewrat and his team have been working with our SpellCrafter and Warder divisions, and they have one proposal to make so far, which might fit in with current events."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow in polite interest. "Current events, Director?"

The goblin nodded. "You have a number of individuals scheduled to receive the Kiss, starting this week, do you not?"

"Three", confirmed Mycroft. He had a feeling he could see where this was going, and was not sure the Americans would be pleased with any of it.

"Breaker Gracklewrat and Crafter Sprikter believe that they have successfully created a soul transference spell, which, when combined with one of our standard healer wards, should be able to drag the soul fragment from one host to another. We have here three soul fragments, and Lord Potter contains another. If we can license a Dementor to Kiss some test animals, then we can test the soul transference spell with the artifacts here, then test the ward between a fully living and a Kissed animal to see if the selected soul can be transferred. Given that the horcruxes here have been created using Parseltongue, the suggested animals would be large snakes or wyverns, perhaps dragons, although ultimately we need to test this on a human being. Your condemned prisoners would be ideal for this stage of testing."

Mycroft grimaced. This would be one hell of a tough sell to his own superiors, although he was sure they would eventually be convinced not only of the necessity, but of the usefulness of having such knowledge available to the Department. The three who were due to be Kissed were all convicted murderers without the benefit of pureblood Houses willing to spare them a vote for Life rather than Death or Undeath; after his own father had signalled his vote for the Kiss not many had 'spared' Barty Crouch from their vote for that fate. However, there was no precedent for using convicted criminals as experimental subjects in the Wizarding world, as opposed to the Muggle, and there were going to have to be stringent precautions taken to make sure the tests didn't leak out. If they could transfer the soul fragment from Harry into a snake, however, without revealing the test subjects, he was sure the Americans would allow the process to take place there without having to risk getting him back into Britain.

"Our SpellCrafters did raise another concern", noted Ragnok. "Creating horcruxes follows certain paths. There are different spell chains for different intentions. If the caster wishes to split his soul to create one Horcrux only, there is only one spell that can be used, and that spell binds the soul halves to both the vessel and the crafter, ensuring that neither half can be split again. If you like, this is the most common version of the ritual, given that we have been able to find records of eight previous uses over recorded wizard/goblin history. In every case, the vessel was destroyed within a century of creation. People do tend to notice those who appear immortal, after all, and where there is no obvious explanation, such as Vampire or Elven heritage, take it upon themselves to investigate."

"Even then", murmured Mycroft. "Go on."

"The rituals to create further horcruxes are even less used, given that they follow the rules of magical numbers. There are two spell chains other than the singular spell that we know of, based on their spell residue - we do not have records of the actual spells themselves - one demanding the sacrifice of three lives, and the other demanding seven lives. Once the spell sequence is invoked in the first sacrifice, there appears to be a timeframe for completing the sequence, else they all fail; however in the only record we could find of a sevenfold split soul, the Egyptian wizard in question attempted the creation using seven slaves. They all, including the wizard, died simultaneously a week later, so it would appear that creating them too close together weakens the soul too much."

Mycroft sat forward in his chair, looking openly concerned. "We know of four horcruxes. So he must have either created, or intend to create, three more. And if the horcruxes are destroyed before the sequence is complete?"

Ragnok shrugged. "Who can say? My thought is that Magic would demand the completion of the ritual. Perhaps he was trying to complete the set, if you will, with Harry, perhaps there are more to come, but as long as he completes the ritual within the timeframe I suspect he is safe from Magic's reprisal. Each Horcrux will need to be destroyed before Riddle can be killed, of course, so it is essential that these and Harry's are dealt with. Riddle must be quite insane already. I would guess the first one created was the book, as the soul fragment in it is substantial. The cup and the locket are far smaller in comparison, and even then significantly larger than that contained in Harry's scar. We have had to ward each of these separately, as putting them close to each other has appeared to amplify their effect, so I would not advise bringing any of them near Harry. I fear that without these protections they would attempt to merge."

Mycroft nodded. "With your permission, Director, I would like to take the research back to my superiors for them to make a final decision, but I agree with the findings you have given me and will recommend licensing a Dementor for these tasks."

As they both rose to conclude the meeting, there was a tap at the door, and a goblin Mycroft vaguely recognised entered the room. 

"Director Ragnok, you asked to be notified should these papers be filed. Lord LeStrange has claimed certain contents in the vault of one Bellatrix Nott, formerly Nameless, LeStrange and Black, as LeStrange family heirlooms. Amongst the listed items is a golden cup matching the description of the identified Horcrux. He has also authorised financial deposits into the vault opened this morning in the Paris branch in the name of Bellatrix Nott. The Parisian goblins were unable to arrest her, nor refuse the vault, as it was opened by Lord Nott on her behalf, and a transaction card and pouch issued."

"Nott, eh? Check his blood for the usual compulsions next time he graces us with his presence, and make sure to inform Lord LeStrange that the cup contained a dark curse and was destroyed by Fiendfyre as governed by Gringotts directive 3547a, dated 18 June 1496. All other artifacts are being checked against the House of Black's records, and those not listed will be sold to make up any shortfall between her dowry plus six years interest, before monies are removed from the LeStrange vaults if required. Inform him personally; the Pensieve of the memory will be stored in the Hall of Records for the edification of us all. "

His grin, and that of the other goblin, was near feral, and showed far too many teeth for comfort. However, Mycroft was unfazed, and, if he was honest, rather looking forward to seeing the memory himself.

\---------

The house was pleasingly big enough for the two families; about the same size overall as Black Manor, though laid out much differently and thankfully with none of the broodingly Dark atmosphere of Sirius' childhood home. Whoever had followed Sirius' instructions had done well. The mansion had two wings and sat in 49 acres of unplottable land in the rural Westchester County, New York State; meaning plenty of land for flying or riding. There was a formally laid out garden at the rear of the house, an apple orchard and, best of all as far as Severus was concerned, a traditional walled Potions ingredients garden complete with two large greenhouses. It was firmly warded against the children immediately, of course, and Tinker, the Malfoy's Head Gardens elf, was in raptures at being placed in charge of its tending. Behind the orchard lay a low stone barn, which looked ideal for holding Remus securely during the full moon.

Inside, the mansion was warm and bright, and spread over three floors, allowing plenty of space for each of them to have necessary solitude, as well as the inviting living room off the main hallway. The combined libraries of all four adults opened off that room, and had comfortable seats as well as a long table in the middle. Between the two wings lay a large family kitchen, painted a warm sunny yellow, with a long beech table in the centre and a cosy corner sofa at one end. It was clearly a room to spend time in, not just for cooking, and they already knew they would spend comfortable evenings there. On the ground floor of the west wing were the dining room and a room clearly intended for entertaining originally, but which would make a splendid playroom for Harry and Draco. Narcissa's bedroom, dressing room, bathroom and office were on the second floor of this side, the Triad's mirrored hers on the other. 

Between the two wings was the natural room for the two boys: lit by the sun in the morning and shady in the afternoon, it was large enough to accommodate two twin beds when they were too old for the cots that currently were placed close together so the toddlers could see each other. The third floor would eventually hold the children's bedrooms, but for now was mostly left empty, but safe enough for rainy days' roaming by the boys when they were older. The potions lab in the basement, next to the apple and wine cellars, was well stocked with equipment and ingredients, as per Severus' orders; this area too was immediately warded against the children, and Sirius was firmly ordered never to approach the stairs, let alone come down them.

Narcissa was even pleased with the house elf accommodation in the attic, pronouncing it able to house families, what with both unbonded elf couples wishing to bond. Remembering what James had said in his will, Sirius had made sure to take Tweedle aside as Head Elf and give the same permissions as head of the new Household, and Pickle had been glowing with her first pregnancy by the time they had finished testifying to the Wizengamot. Touring the house and garden took up most of that first afternoon, while the house elves worked tirelessly to unshrink and place the families' belongings.

As the light dimmed, the wards chimed to let them know they had a visitor. At the same time, a buzzing noise came from the muggle box affixed to the kitchen wall, and a gruff voice announced himself as their expected contact. He didn't blink as Tweedle popped him through the wards, although he did look a little surprised to find them in the kitchen. Internally Sirius smiled - he probably hadn't expected three Lords and a Lady to be drinking hot chocolate around a kitchen table while two toddlers waved breadsticks at him, but he stood with the others to welcome the newcomer to their home. 

"Colonel Fury, may I introduce my family to you? This is my cousin, Narcissa, and the young blond chap there is her son Draco. The young man next to him with the yoghurt in his hair is my godson and bondson Harry, and these are my bondmates, Severus and Remus. You've met Tweedle, that's Humphrey over there desperately wanting to fix you a drink, and Pickle is the one trying to wrestle the spoon out of Harry's grasp. Have a seat, let Humphrey get you a drink before he bursts, and make yourself at home. It's good to meet you."

\---------

"I'd like to bring Black to the range for testing"

Nick Fury was sat opposite DDO Carter with the strongest cup of coffee Shield was capable of brewing, though he doubted it would be enough. It had been a deliberate move to visit the Black household in off duty hours, although, of course, men like him were never truly off-duty. However, it usually sent the signal that this was a social visit. Undoubtedly Black, if not all of them, had seen through that polite fiction, but it was also clear that they didn't really care, and it hadn't taken long before, unusually, he'd actually begun to relax. To the point that, once he'd got in that morning, he'd quickly had his blood checked for the more usual potions and gone through the spell wards that always made him feel like he'd walked through static electricity. Nothing, other than the healthy amount of firewhisky making its way through his system via his nerve endings. He always forgot what a firewhisky hangover was like.

"Your reasons?"

"His record, for one. He has the highest Auror rating for his age I've seen - very quick reflexes, good decision making on the spot, clear headed and charismatic. If he can handle our weapons as well as I think he'll be able to, he'll make a good squad leader. I get the feeling you either love him or want to punch him through a wall, sometimes simultaneously, but I have a gut feeling about him."

"DDO Holmes has given him a field rating of 'Outstanding', which is the highest the Brits go with this sort of thing. His cover is blown completely now, of course, given the complex family laws of Wizarding Britain; given the terrorist organisation is temporarily headed by his cousin the only way finances could be cut off was for him to assert his Lordship and disown her publicly."

"Yeah, that's gonna fuck your cover up. Voldemort's gang hasn't had any activity over here, nor contacts, far as we can see from the paperwork and debriefing him and one of his husbands' last night. And is it just me, or is the whole husband thing a bit fucked up?"

"Nick, as your friend, I'm going to say this once, so I never have to say this as your boss. As an agent of SHIELD, as the second in command of the Magic/Muggle Technomancy and Espionage division, you need to understand that yes, it's just you. Their world does not give a shit about gender, sexuality or colour, which means that We do not give a shit about them either. They aren't perfect - they might be light years ahead of our society when it comes to what they can do with their magic, but they still use parchment and quills, and their ideas on blood purity are what's behind the war they've had back there - but these people are on the right side of that war and We. Will. Honour. Them, no matter who they are married to, or divorced from. Do not get on the wrong side of them about this, Nick, and you won't get on the wrong side of me. They might be able to turn you inside out with a wave of their stick, but screw this up and I, personally, will fuck you up."

Nick patiently let her finish."Peggy, off the record and as your friend too, you know damn well that I do not give a shit who Black or anyone else sticks their dick into; I just think it's a bit fucked up that all four of them live together like that. How they aren't all yelling at each other, I dunno; it's a big house, I grant you, but my ex would not have put up with me having two husbands three states over, let alone three rooms."

Peggy Carter laughed. "Nick, your ex couldn't put up with you by yourself, so yes, I can see that. Look, I know you were mainly interested in the two spies, but Lupin-Black is the key to that whole family. Black is the Head of the Political House legally and financially, and Lady Malfoy is under his House Protection, meaning if you want to tear down her Political standing, you'd better be prepared to go through him and all his affiliated houses first, but they aren't married. It's 'Malfoy-Black' to denote that political allegiance, which is a major faction in British Wizarding Politics. She's divorced from the former Lord Malfoy, who was one of Voldemort's Generals, and Regent for their son; she's also sister of the other General who is currently still out there causing chaos."

"Ok, so, huge fucking target on her back and the kid's. Which is why they're here in p.c, right? So what's with Lupin-Black?"

"Werewolf. Alpha werewolf."

"You have got to be fucking shitting me."

"I shit you not, Nick. He's the Alpha, and while from all reports he is a calm, controlled and gentle son of a bitch, they're his pack, not Black's. Black is the frontman. Lupin-Black will let him and Prince-Black do anything they want to do, as long as he wants them to do it, but if he said no, they would be incapable of going against him. If he dies, they die, though not without ending whoever did it first, and possibly everyone the perp ever loved or worked with as well. He's also impressed DDO Holmes. He underwent four hours of unimaginable torture without cracking, healed every bone in his body within 5 days, and kept his own up in conversation and research with Holmes, something not many can do. Don't underestimate him; he is one to recruit. The only way they got the drop on him is because they used one of his school friends to do it, and he was smart enough and sadistic enough to use spelled silver. "

A drawn out "Fuuuuuuck" was Nick's only response as he shook his head. Spelled silver? On a were? And he was still alive?

"Now you're getting it. They are his bondmates, and if they are the calibre we rate them at, imagine how we need to rate him. He's good. You don't even notice he's in the room unless he wants you to, and you know as well as I do, that is utterly phenomenal Alpha control. We haven't got another Alpha who has that level of control, nor who could form this level of bond with two others; Peters is the nearest and his bondmate is a genius, just not particularly helpful to us, unless we suddenly need an expert in Norse mythology. If he has any skill for languages, we could drop him in absolutely anywhere we need."

"Ok, you convinced me. And Severus is the youngest potion master ever, and survived nine months as an agent in place in the court of the mad king, so he's straight into the labs, right? What does Narcissa do?"

" Anything she bloody wants, I imagine."


	29. Organisation

Bellatrix did not often feel fear, but the news Peter had fed back through from Rudolphus sank like a Dementor's presence into her very marrow. Only she and Lucius knew about the Horcruxes their Lord had made, and only Lucius knew where the bloody diadem was. Regulus had helped their Lord hide another, God knows where, and there was a ring that was possibly the most important of all, which the Dark Lord had hidden himself, but the cup of the Founder Hag had been her responsibility. He would not accept the excuse that Gringotts should have been safe, and in retrospect she should have prepared against something changing the treaty between the Ministry and the Goblins, let alone her traitor cousin disowning her! The damn thing would have been safer if she'd hidden it in a bloody cave!

She had cost the Dark Lord, her love, a piece of his very soul. The recompense for that was beyond her ability to comprehend. All she could do would be to subdue as much of Wizarding Britain for her Lord as she could, recruiting as large a force of loyal followers for him to lead and, in turn, draw strength from through the mark. Nott had proven his loyalty by taking her into his family as his sister, which was better than as his wife or daughter, and her new nephews and nieces had already indicated their partiality towards Voldemort, once they had been reassured he had merely become temporarily disembodied rather than killed. Admittedly, slight confundus charms had been used; nothing so heavy as to trip Hogwarts wards, but there were five teenagers going into three houses with instructions to sound out and recruit. 

Nott's name opened more doors in the Minor Fifty Six than the LeStrange or even Black Name would have done in those circles. The Notts were seen, however incorrectly, as Grey; somewhat a darker grey than others, but even so, not actually Dark. They also dabbled more in the more middle-class strata of Wizarding culture, owning shops rather than newspapers, ready made rather than bespoke - and as such the family had a wider reach than those in the Twenty Eight did. 

More to the point, many of those people felt unrepresented by the Wizarding government, and had fears and insecurities that could be played like a harp. There were resentments at being seen as 'lesser' purebloods, and often a stronger disinclination for mixing with muggles that those above them socially. Their children made up the background in Hogwarts, if they attended at all: the kids that didn't make the Quidditch team or the top three academic students in every House, who weren't the class clowns or the House wit. They were the sales assistants and Ministry drones, rather than those who started as Under Secretaries and rose to Head of their own Department before the age of 35. Well, every movement needed a groundswell of support, and while not everyone could be an officer, every army needed soldiers. By the time the Dark Lord was found and restored, Wizarding Britain would be ripe for the plucking. Then maybe, just maybe, she would be allowed to live.

\--------

Greg was doing his best not to gawk, but he was a copper, making mental notes of everything was his job, and right now his brain was working overtime. The squib son of a squib mother, he could remember being taken to Diagon Alley as a Christmas treat when he was eight or nine - and spelled not to be able to talk about it by his wonderful Uncle - but even though he kept in touch with that side of the family it hadn't been repeated. The Lestrades weren't ashamed of their squib relations, but they also weren't the most social or political of families, and had as much reason to hang around the Ministry as he had to hang around the House of Lords. 

They had travelled in to central London on the Tube per normal, getting off at Charing Cross Road. After pointing out at least six secondhand bookshops which they absolutely had to go to on the way back, Sherlock had pulled him into a pub which was rather flagrantly defying the licensing laws by being open at 9:00am. By sheer force of will Greg managed not to see anyone buying or drinking a pint during their walk through to the back, and got to the drab brick wall with only a moderate twinge of conscience just as Sherlock was tapping the sequence to open the wall. The walk down Diagon Alley had been calmer than he remembered, with shops just opening up; the mix of potion fumes, exotic dishes, owls and cats and weird plants just starting to arise. 

Sherlock strode rapidly down the street, forcing Greg to keep up with him rather than gawk at the shops and alleys they passed. One alleyway in particular pulled at his cop instincts; wisely he recognised that he would be more than slightly out of his depth should he turn down into its narrow darkness and caught up to Sherlock instead. Turning the corner past what looked like an early supermarket, with sales assistants in brown aprons weighing out fruit and climbing ladders to reach the bags of sugar, Greg was surprised to find himself being pulled into a telephone box. He was even more surprised when, after informing whoever answered the phone that they were here to see Unspeakable Holmes, the floor beneath them started to move down. Rapidly.

Walking through the Atrium was an experience he was unprepared for. The huge golden fountain shooting multicoloured streams of water past the noble witch and wizard was impressive, but frankly tacky. The stores around the outside of the great room, next to the multiple fireplace entry points, sold everything from hot pumpkin juice to cauldrons, though Greg was at a loss as to why one would need to pick up a cauldron on the way home from running the country or delving into unknown mysteries. There was a line of people wearing badges like theirs - or possibly not, given that his and Sherlock's badges said 'Don't ask, we aren't allowed to say" - who were rather bizarrely having their wands weighed on brass scales the size of dinner plates.

There was an Unspeakable waiting for them, his hood drawn up over his face and a definite gap around him, but the man babbled amiably enough as he ushered them smoothly through the security gates and down to the floor below. As soon as the lift door opened into the dark corridor the man's chattering persona dropped and a more professional demeanour was evident as he apologised for the distraction technique while ushering them towards Mycroft's office. Greg's nerves grew the further down the corridor they travelled. He had the feeling that Mycroft was more senior than he'd thought possible for his age. Given the size of the Wizarding population combined with the extended life span, it wasn't hard to see that if your boss was 149 before they retired, and you got in just at the right time, talent and timing could take you a long way; the reverse being just as true if your boss was in their mid fifties and content to cruise.

The office suite they were shown into bore this observation out. A waiting room, comfortably appointed, with windows looking out over what looked like the Yorkshire Dales. 

"Nice view", commented Greg. "Any chance you could manage that instead of the street outside the house?"

"As long as you never intend to let any of your colleagues inside your home again, certainly." drawled Sherlock, but he flashed a tight grin at Greg, who snorted in amusement. They weren't kept waiting long. Quite possibly the prissiest looking man Greg had ever seen opened the internal office doors and ushered them in to see Mycroft, who was sitting there with... He rubbed his eyes. Yes, still Commissioner Newman. His ultimate boss was sitting, in Mycroft Bloody Holmes office, in the bloody Ministry of bloody Magic, drinking tea, although, a small relieved part in the back of Greg's brain noted, he didn't look any more comfortable than Greg felt about it. 

"Detective Greg Lestrade, my brother, Sherlock Holmes, Commissioner Newman of the Metropolitan Police, thank you all for coming in today at such short notice. Sherlock, Greg, you'll be pleased to know that both the Department of Mysteries and New Scotland Yard have agreed to collaborate on a new combined branch of Wizard/Muggle Investigative Liaison, based out of premises we own in Baker Street and headed by you both. Sherlock, in order for you to be accepted as sufficiently qualified you'll have to stop delaying and submit your Masters in short order; however, you are now officially employed by the Department and attached to this office."

He gave the tiniest smirk possible at the look of surprise on Greg's face, at least, before continuing."I will be your controller, if you like, for reporting investigations that have magical involvement, while Commissioner Newman will be in that capacity for the yard. You answer directly to us, gentleman. You draw your funding through this Department, and Commissioner Newman will ensure you have access to any and all Muggle information relevant, at your discernment, to cases. You have authority to second additional resources from both forces, including specialists and Obliviators where called for. Sherlock, you will be undergoing an Obliviation training course within the week, so do make yourself available."

Commissioner Newman cleared his throat. "Thank you, Unspeakable Holmes. Mr Holmes, Detective Lestrade, you will both hold the equivalent ranks of Detective and Unspeakable. We can't promote you above the necessary levels without drawing attention to you any more than we already have and you're more useful out and about than stuck in an office. Lestrade, your former colleagues and acquaintances are currently being visited by a team from the Obliviators, who are providing them with the memories that you were transferred to another division; the leaving party was held in your local last night and that you broke up with your most recent girlfriend two months ago, which prompted your decision. All memories of Detective Holmes have been removed as has his name from your partner's notebook and the report made to your Captain upon his being detained. The children you rescued will remember you, as I understand you are developing a legend, but not that you were brought in."

He looked down at his notes. "You will have equal powers of search, arrest etc in both the, ah mundane and magical world's. If this branch works out, as both I and Unspeakable Holmes expect, then we will eventually expand your team, but for now it's just you two and whatever temporary support we can pull in without provoking too much interest. Your transfer will be effective Monday, Lestrade, and your official office set up for then."

He cleared his throat a little fussily before looking directly at Greg. "I have to informally, ah, inform you that there are certain laws in our world which do not have counterparts in the Wizarding world, and that while they find our laws in this instance barbaric, nevertheless they are the law. We have no jurisdiction as to what goes on in Wizarding homes, nor they in ours, which is why our cultures must be equally represented to allow investigations and charges to be made which are lawful in the eyes of our respective governments. You may choose where you live or socialise, Detective, but where you represent the enforcement of our laws you must ensure you are in compliance with our laws.

"Of course, the reverse is also true," Mycroft took up. "There are, you will note, laws on our statute books which explicitly protect Muggles, whereas under the Wizarding Secrecy Act of 1789, official recognition of Wizards and Witches was removed from Muggle legislation, along with laws allowing for their imprisonment and execution of course. As you cannot protect or arrest that which does not exist, all those residing in the Wizarding world, be they fully magic, muggle or squib like yourself, Greg, are subject to Wizarding legislation, and crimes against muggles by magical beings are prosecuted by our laws in our courts. You and those working with you, if cleared, will have exemption from the Restriction of Magical Secrecy Act, although as a squib you are already considered part of our citizenry - a dual citizen, if you will."

"Detective Lestrade, I will be blunt", Newman stated, his fingers steepled together. "There are rumours that I believe you are aware of; rumours that were not helpful to your career. As long as they were rumours, the Metropolitan Police Force had no reason to become involved. As a citizen of Unspeakable Holmes' world you are under their protection, however, your associates are not. I would not like for any associates from our world to cause your departure from this joint unit, are we clear? The only other magically-aware officer we have is not suited to head this department on our behalf, and Unspeakable Holmes has vouched both for you personally and that you are the only current officer acceptable to the M.O.M. This has put me, personally, in a position I would rather not be in, and I trust that you will live up to your professional reputation and the trust we have both placed upon your good name."

It was obvious to Greg that he had been closer to being formally investigated and discharged from the force than he had thought, and while internally he was furious at the rather heavy handed lecture, he was also deeply shaken. 

"You have my word, Commissioner, that I will strive to bring credit to the force and the new department."

The Commissioner nodded. "See that you do, Greg. The rumours have been wiped, of course, so a change in your department and social activities should ensure you have no problems that you yourself don't create. Your record is outstanding, and as I'm the only person who has any knowledge of this business on our side of the fence, I intend we both see it kept that way."

Mycroft took over smoothly. "Sherlock will be moving, effective immediately, to property owned by the Department in Baker Street. Your facilitator is a Mrs Hudson, who will live in the apartment on the ground floor, and is the presumed-retired landlady of the house and a sleeper Hit Witch."

Mycroft looked sternly at Sherlock at this point. "She is not your housekeeper, Sherlock, so take a couple of house elves from home for god's sake, or your apartment other than the bathroom will be unlivable within a month. Greg, we will be moving you to the building next door. The apartments connect, and your office space will comprise of the apartment in 221B. Your living arrangements are your own concern, but I will mention that 223 is layered with distraction charms in order to prevent Muggles or wizards alike from paying more than cursory attention to the building."

Commissioner Newman took over. "You will remain firmly attached to your new office at the Yard, while Sherlock, you will publicly have the role of 'consulting detective', so you can continue to work in your own way. Greg will bring you in to assist enquiries, to get his team and the station in general used to your presence and accepting of your absence, while you will work the informer networks you're developing. We want you to be simultaneously deep in the shadows and display a distinct public persona, so that you are recognised as an expert while continuing to handle your 'runners'. Make it as eccentric as you want, take private cases; we need an obvious explanation as to why you aren't a Met employee but get called in all the time, and a polarising eccentricity will be your best cover while around the Yard's people who aren't in the know."

Sherlock hummed in approval. "That, at least, won't be a problem. We'll need a taxi compulsion charm up and running; I refuse to use the tube, there's too much input. Decent café, if there isn't one already, Italian for preference. Muggle law immunity, of course, for Greg regarding the age of consent; I have no intention of allowing him to be incarcerated for us buggering each other silly, and he can't work that network from Wormwood Scrubs."

The Commissioner was flushed pink to his bushy eyebrows at that, but Mycroft just waved a hand dismissively. "Already dealt with, brother. I'm also transferring a team of Unspeakables with their own networks over for you to run as their handler, so you should have your hands full. We'll have a team move you in this weekend. We have a couple of Unspeakables in the other apartment, and the landlady of 223 is a squib, so it is permissible for magic to be used within both buildings. The attic across both buildings is a warded space suitable for laboratories. We'll be taking over your old house, Greg, with suitable recompense naturally, and running it as a Department way-station in the eventuality of the Voldemort situation worsening. The agent-in-place will be posing as your American aunt, so we'll need you dropping in for visits with her and your new cousin from time to time, get the child registered at school, that sort of thing; establish their cover. 

They all rose as Commissioner Newman stood, clearly intending the conversation to finish. "You'll report for duty on Monday with Detective Holmes, Lestrade. Mycroft? It has, as always, been an experience. I'll see you at the Yard next month."

The private secretary showed the Commissioner out of the office and, presumably, out of the Ministry, while the tension drained out of the room. Sherlock raised an amused eyebrow once the door was closed, and it's silencing ward connected. "So basically, Greg, you can shag who you like, as long as they're either a wizard or you're in a Wizarding property. Think you can cope with that?"

"Sherlock, please", demurred Mycroft. 

"It's alright, Mycroft," Greg chuckled. "If your brother didn't say exactly what he was thinking then I'd think he was under a curse, as would you."

The fussy little bureaucrat wizard silently opened the door as Mycroft moved to usher them out. "Sherlock will view the apartment and sign the muggle lease today, Greg, you'll do the same at 223 tomorrow. I'll be in touch."

\--------

The Were Elder and his Emissary were formally welcomed to the Lupin Pack territory by Remus, his Second, Nick, and his Emissary, Severus. Were formality did not last long between friendly packs, and Bob Sanders, the retired Alpha of a large pack to the north, was clearly relaxed by the scents in the Mansion. His emissary and wife, Marie, had 'retired' as much as any ever did, providing counsel to the official emissary, but preferring to let him work in his own way. Both now provided training to the weres working for or picked up by SHIELD, often untrained and out of control with their shift.

Remus was a little different in their experience, and both had to go off for a run to shake off their anger at hearing that Weres were seen as sentient beasts by British Wizardry, barred from many professions and schools by dint of their 'dangerous condition'. In his culture, Remus was seen as an anomaly: a Were who nevertheless had been 'allowed' to attend school if kept under lock and chains at Full Moon; who had soul-bonded to a Lord of a House going back centuries and thus becoming the first ever Were to hold a seat in his own right in government, and the first to hold the title of Lord-Consort. While the nobility system was new to them, the knowledge that Weres were treated with such antipathy enraged the older couple, and they were still clearly holding that anger on their return and fluid shift back.

"Are you also wolf animagi, then?" Remus asked, as they were still two weeks from the next full moon.

They stared at him, clearly taken aback. Marie cleared her throat, and said, gently, "Remus, have you never shifted intentionally? Has it always been like your first transformation: ripped from you by moonlight?"

"That's all I've ever known, yes. I didn't think Weres could voluntarily shift. All the literature I've looked through has lycanthropy as a disease triggered by the Bite and subsequently the full moon."

Bob and Marie both had tears in their eyes, and Bob moved to hug him impulsively. Severus was white-faced with horror at the implications. "Potions books have taken the same view, that it is a disease. I've... dear Merlin. I've been trying to perfect a potion that will suppress the symptoms; allow the Lycanthrope to retain their own mind. I..." He covered his face with his hands, body shaking, as Sirius came running down the stairs in a panic."

"The bond! What's wrong? Has someone died?" he demanded, anxiety constricting his breathing, making him pant. 

Marie rose and held out her hand as he rushed to Remus' side. "They have just found out that Remus, and probably many Weres throughout Britain and Europe, should not be powerless and insane under their transformations once they have learned to embrace and call forth their wolves. The initial transformation can be painful if one is bitten and not coached through the transformation, but to live with that pain every month! What it must do to the body!"

Remus looked up. "I was bitten as a six year old boy as part of a vendetta against my father. I never saw the wolf again, and he has a reputation as a vicious enforcer for the Death Eaters. My father trained me to control my feelings and stayed with me, outside the chains reach, every moon that he could. My friends, my husbands, learned the animagus art to keep me company, but my doctor warned me I would not live to see my century at the expected damage rate."

The wolves were pale. Bob was the first to grind his voice,looking at the three men bowed by emotional pain, as upstairs they could hear Draco wailing.

"Weres, on average, see two centuries or more. How can it be otherwise? We heal from all injuries save the loss of a limb; we run, play and hunt, keeping us strong, and we are immune to most illnesses. Our bite cures most human ailments. Our packs grow, in part, by our emissaries making contacts with those who are young enough to accept the mental challenges, and strong enough to undergo the first change, but who have cancer, or epilepsy, or other limiting conditions. You are young enough for your wolf to be able to heal many problems, if you are not tearing yourself apart each Moon. The Bite is a gift to our culture, not a curse; it brings new life and strength. Will you allow me to train you to bring your wolf forward, to become one with him rather than two opposing forces? To feel the wolf within when on two legs, and the human within on four?"

The hope in Remus' eyes was dazzling.

\------------


	30. Trouble At Home

The Dark Mark was becoming known to Wizardkind and Muggles alike. While the attack on Scriveners was hidden from the mundane world, being as it was under muggle repellent charms in Hogsmeade, the attack on Nymphadora's primary school caught the attention of all news carriers, and the 'fireworks' set off at the scene made for excellent and poignant visuals added to those of the shattered classrooms and shrouded body of the caretaker. 

The strangest places were being targeted. A Killing Curse was fired from the stands at Kempton Park, killing the horse 'Roi de Malfoy' in the Rowena Classic immediately, but also causing the jockey to be thrown through the air, landing fatally on his neck. The resulting pile-up of thoroughbred horses and jockeys in bright silks caused three horses to be euthanised on the spot, while their riders suffered broken limbs that were more kindly treated. The Mark soared over the scene, captured in tabloid front pages and news programs alike. The coroner ruled Death by Misadventure, and a blowpipe of some unknown poison was suspected in the death of the horse.

A bridge collapsed over the Grand Union Shipping Canal as Mr and Mrs George and Amelia Black were crossing. A printers press developed a fault and took out Broomstick Boys magazine in the resulting fire. The Lupin and Co brand machine was only eighteen months old, and had recently been serviced, but the damage done to the brand remained long after the Boys had relocated to Fraction Alley, despite the gift of new presses to help the magazine still hit its deadline for publication. The Dark Mark hung in the air in each and every article discussing the fire. As soon as it became apparent that Houses Black and a Malfoy, their affiliated Houses, associates and businesses were a focus for the bloodshed and destruction, Sirius pledged his support to the families and began dismantling the UK businesses and holdings, publishing each sale in order to try and protect those caught up by dint of where they lived or worked.

The attacks continued. Off-duty Aurors on a stag night, attending a muggle disco as part of their booze-fuelled shenanigans, were killed in the explosion that tore the club apart. A tourist-trap muggle 'Magick' shop in Glastonbury, a front for the multi-national charms business, burnt down mid afternoon in a white hot fire that claimed the lives of the owner and her husband, not to mention the three teenagers squabbling over the tarot sets in the corner while surreptitiously stuffing their pockets with pretty 'protective' amulets, which, as it turned out, didn't work. The Dark Mark soaring over Glastonbury made international news, as close to the famous festival as it was, and in offices in New York and London each detail was meticulously recorded.

And then came the Scouring  
of Azkhaban.

The Junior Associate had traces of seers blood, as it turned out, and after a very disturbed night had gone with his first impulse and owled in his apology for absence due to sickness. The Howlers from his boss, including the final one ranting that his job was gone if he didn't come in, merely confirmed his second impulse, which was to owl his concern in to the Aurors. The parchment sat in Alpha Murray's in-tray for most of the morning, but finally, it being a quiet day, he sent his beta, Parrish, to check out 'some kid's hunch that his boss was planning something dodgy on Azkaban today'. 

The beta Auror, on finding out that the lawyer in question had stormed off to Azkaban thirty minutes previously, had the sense to send off his Patronus before going to see the informant. It didn't make much difference, in the end, but it did mean that they had some idea that they were going to be Apparating into a bad situation, what with the lawyer representing both the LeStrange brothers and Barty Crouch.

By the time Mycroft got pulled in the situation was beyond saving.

The lawyer's body, along with the quay keeper, was the first found. Someone, probably the deranged Barty Crouch, had obviously taken exception to having been found guilty in the first place. His mother's body was found in his cell, partially transformed with some poorly brewed Polyjuice. His father lay broken and Kissed in the Pit.

There wasn't a single Death Eater in the prison.

There wasn't a single living guard in the prison.

The Dementors were gone.

What was left of the guards covering the lunch shift was food for crows, pinned to the outer walls in shattered pieces; lashed by the storms which always crashed round the benighted island. Blood spattered every surface. The wards were shattered, the fireplaces destroyed and the owls torn apart.

The cells left occupied contained the deranged dregs of humans wrecked by overlong exposure to the effects of the Dementors, clearly useless even as cannon fodder.

Every other thief, counterfeiter, shyster, con artist, murderer and general all-round scum was gone, presumably to swell the ranks of the Death Eaters. The Nameless, they came to be called; men and women whose grip on reality was sometimes tenuous, who might be unsure of the name they had been incarcerated under, but who could be pointed, aimed at a target and left alone to succeed or fall.

The Dark Mark hung over the quay, over the fortress itself, and over the remote beach which served as the arrivals/departure point for visitors. The guard hut here had been blown apart, as had the guard. Like the others killed by the raiders, the remains were displayed to maximise horror. 

However unlikely it was that the attack on Azkaban was muggle-related, being as there had been enough muggle-repelling wards around the island and beach to keep any hikers or boats more than five miles away, the sudden appearance of a new island off the coast of Thurso had made it into worldwide muggle news. Muggle helicopters circled overhead, and although the bodies had been quickly banished to Ministry morgues and the remaining maddened criminals apparated to cells under the Ministry, the best wand work available had only managed to create the illusion of a centuries-abandoned prison before the first Muggle archeologists and geologists stepped onto the island. 

The appearance was a nine-month-wonder to the Muggle world, with Obliviators and Unspeakables slipped into the teams of visiting 'experts' to amend memories and conduct the Ministry's own investigation.'Brigadoon', as the mysterious island was swiftly named, was clearly no longer a viable place to host the most depraved criminals of Wizarding Britain, and negotiations had to be opened with the Argentinian República de Seres Mágicos to allow a replacement Stronghold to be built on the Falkland Islands despite the rather inconvenient Muggle war being fought at the time. 

A silent promotion was awarded to Mycroft for the deft negotiation, which saw the Containment Centre for Unusual Beings and Entities, or the Cube, as it swiftly became known, being established on the remote islands. The República de Seres Mágicos put pressure on their Muggle equivalent to swiftly end their invasion plans, citing the benefit of having combined facilities to hold magical criminals over technical possession of the remote communities.

The Cube had additional benefits to Azkaban, which after all had been built in the 8th century and largely depended on wards and dementors to suppress the innate magic of those imprisoned there. Cells were lined with Hecalite, Kyanite and Obsidian to scatter negative energy, dampen and ground magical energies and protect the imprisoned and the warders from aggressive intent, while SHIELD technomages created electrical forcefields laced with binding wards throughout the very structure of the prison. SHIELD and the ICW provided the magical and muggle 'legend' for the prison.

It already had designated cells for Peter Pettigrew, Bellatrix Nott, Lucius Nameless and Thomas Riddle.

The dregs of Azkaban were not sent to the new facility. Their cores bound and their minds obliviated, they joined the muggles they had previously despised in care homes throughout the British Isles, as unable to reveal the existence of magic as they were to reveal their own names, living out the remainder of their life sentences largely unaware of their surroundings. 

But the Nameless remained free. And as they trained, they became increasingly active in the guerrilla campaign against Wizarding Britain. Lucius Nameless proved to be a dangerous commander, as Bellatrix revealed herself to be a cunning strategist.

The Troubles, as they came to be known, had only just begun.


	31. Notes From Abroad

The moving image on the front page of The International Wizarding Tribune was far more impactful in colour than in the Daily Prophet's traditional sepia, mused Remus to himself as he waited outside DDO Carter's office for his escort back to the surface of the subterranean SHIELD HQ. In sharp clarity, above the roof of St Mungo's, the brackish green snake undulated in and out of the eye sockets of the skull in the universally recognised symbol of the Death Eaters, the Mark Sirius had finally gotten around to having removed the previous day at the Salem Square Gringotts in Manhattan.

The paper detailed in lurid prose the atrocities of the weekend. While they had been settling into their new home, a wave of terror had crashed over Great Britain, and the 'Howlers To The Editor' section had run an apology for the brevity of the day's column, citing the fire damage caused by so many Howlers exploding in rapid succession. It ended with a plea for anyone interested in the post of Column Editor to please reply by their earliest owl.

After a thorough debriefing taking ten days, and training with the wolves each night at home, Remus had been put to work at SHIELD analysing the incoming reports and predicting further actions. Already the reaching out by the Nameless had begun seeping out into dissolute Magical Italy, no doubt the work of Lucius Nameless. Though outwardly repudiating the humiliated former leader of the British Malfoys, Narcissa had informed Remus that the Sicilian branch of House Malfoy did not react to external forces removing familial status in the same way as most Wizarding Families. The ties to organized crime were too strong for Family to reject those with talents unfavourable to society, even if Magic herself upheld their condemnation, and Lucius had been slipping through the shadowy corridors of the underworld with ease before he had graduated from Hogwarts. Though himself invisible, his actions rippled eastwards throughout Europe, leaping muggle Walls with ease and picking up old contacts within Austria and Hungary.

Peggy Carter had made it clear to Remus and his bondmates that, though his intel and scholarly mind were useful, he was not employed to be office bound. The weres within SHIELD ranks were sworn to his Pack, with Nick Fury acting as his human Second and, in human terms, ranking officer. They had spent the best part of the month developing a working style through both leadership skills seminars and battlefield training. His shift was now fluid, Moony not a separate wild creature but integrated fully into his very soul(with interesting effects on his husbands both mentally and, um, physically.) While his main role was to be in developing links within the Commonwealth of Americas, Were diplomacy would be paramount to the combined effort to hinder Bellatrix and Lucius plans. The Italian packs outside of Sicily had not yet thrown their weight behind an Organisation with little effect on their daily lives, not even with the notion of helping, in some vague, ill-defined way, their British brethren. 

No, Remus felt fairly sure, from his experience travelling in Italy on meandering trips to visit Severus, that the indolent, playful wolves he had met then would not care to be pulled into an Anglo Civil War. 

The Austro-Hungarian packs were a different matter. There were already ties between criminal elements in both Magical and mundane worlds, and it would be Remus' task, with selected betas, to negotiate, at best, neutrality treaties with the mostly unknown Alphas. The meeting with DDO Carter had been to notify Remus of his departure date and go through the key points of the briefing material, though there were hours of Pensieve intel to go through along with the packet of parchment in his briefcase, expansion charm at it's limit. Sirius was going to be pissed. Severus would give him the Look, but at least both of them would be able to give him tips for maintaining a role undercover; the only aspect Remus still felt unsure about.

A vaguely familiar scent caught his attention, and as footsteps came down the hall, Remus folded up the paper, returning it to the little table. The soft cough to attract his attention was unnecessary, but Remus had found out long ago that humans preferred such subtle conventions, finding it unnerving to be met with knowing expectation. By the time the feet had come to a halt by the door, and the cough sounded, Remus had placed the scent. 

It wasn't difficult. He lived with one extremely similar, after all.

Standing in the doorway, buttons gleaming in his  
SHIELD dress uniform, was Sirius' brother. 

Turned out, he learned on the walk back to the apparition point, that the buttons were quite so shiny because they were so very new. Regulus Black, his voice still scarred from the foul potion he had been forced to drink, had settled in to his assumed identity of John Black with gratitude, and had accepted the job offer with SHIELD almost before the Wizarding Protective Services official had finished making his pitch. 

"I'm coming to the end of my training, of course," 'John' told Remus on the walk from the apparition zone hidden just outside the family wards. 'I get my placement details next month, but I wanted to make up with Sirius before you leave for your trip, so, I guess, here I am, and hopefully we won't try to kill each other this time."

Remus chuckled. "Well, at least now he knows you were one of Mycroft's agents, so he's not going to go off like a whizzbang, but he is going to be pretty pissed that you took so long to come over."

"I wouldn't say 'pissed'" drawled Sirius, clearly having overheard. "Ticked off, possibly. Tetchy, I'll give you. Bloody thankful my little, irritating twat of a baby brother is alive to irritate me, oh hell yes. You ever do something so monumentally, gloriously stupid as get involved with anything Bellatrix suggests again, though, and I'll banish your balls."

The brothers hugged, a bit awkwardly, but with genuine affection. There were many things that needed to be said, but in the early winter sunshine of the late afternoon, they weren't as important as their first affectionate interaction since Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, and began to leave the Black family's Dark roots behind.

 

\-----

The Baker Street apartment straddling the former attic rooms of 221 and 223 Baker Street was, if anything, much nicer than the cookie-cut-out home he had left behind, Greg mused to himself. Sure, it had it's downsides, of which climbing three sets of stairs with groceries was going to be one, but the one glorious upside, ahead even of the large roof windows displaying the night sky, was the sight of Sherlock Holmes's mesmerizing arse, displayed so fetchingly on their bed. 

Their own bed. Which had literally materialized on the day they moved in, along with the rest of the decidedly masculine but obviously antique furniture. The bed was a marvel, it really was. Not only was it the perfect height for him to slowly fuck into Sherlock's glorious arse, as he had every intention of doing in just a few more minutes, but it had the most obliging posts for him to bind Sherlock's deliciously gangly legs above his head, and his delectable arms to the sides, giving access to that paragon of all arses while allowing it very little room to wriggle under the moonlight, as Sherlock was attempting to enticingly do, the little tease.

Yes, he thought, absent-mindedly tapping the crop against his leather trousers as he contemplated the Eighth and Ninth Wonders of the World before him (a gagged, and mostly silent, Sherlock, and That Arse, dear gods, That Arse), the apartment definitely had definite upsides to it. Not least the office, lying between it and those of their landladies, giving excellent soundproofing to the benefit of all parties. While 'his' landlady was a retiring sort, he did not fancy the redoubtable former Unspeakable, Mrs Martha Hudson, (who had 'retired' when she married a muggle 'mark' in order to bring down his crime network), becoming less than happy with 'her' tenant's late night shenanigans

Not that Sherlock would be making as much noise as earlier, the minx. Although you could forgive the owner of That Arse many things, including a quite stupendous tantrum at hearing that Greg was removing his refrigerator privileges; keeping a human head on ice, as it were, was going further than Greg felt reasonable for Sherlock's passion for 'muggle science' to go. The subsequent 'heated discussion', as Sherlock referred to it, had lead rather quickly to the current situation, and, spare head properly disposed of, Greg was going to make sure that Sherlock properly understood the areas in which Science could, and could not, interact with the Baker Street world.

While appreciating the hell out of that spectacular, moon-white arse, naturally.

\---------

'John Black' sat back in his dining chair, waving away Pickle's offer of desert. "No, thank you Pickle, but I can't manage another mouthful. I still have to be careful how much I eat; the Healers have me on a fairly strict regimen."

"What potions are you taking?" asked Severus intently. "I may be able to help."

"Would you, Sev? Because anything we can do to speed up progress would help"' John replied, smiling warmly at his old friend. Finding out Sirius had married his former dorm mate had hugely cheered the taciturn slytherin, and he had been publicly indifferent but privately impressed by Remus' fierce intellect at Hogwarts.

 

Severus nodded over his cup of aromatic coffee. "Just give me a list of the potions, and I'll see what I can come up with before your placement."

"Do you know where you are being sent?" asked Remus. Sirius, unusually quiet, just seemed happy to sit and listen to conversation, watching emotions flow over his brother's face in a way they had never been able too as a child, at school or home. 

"Somewhere in Northern California. From the photos it looks beautiful, but it's a fairly remote place; small town, huge woodland. I'm one of the new agents being trained to oversee known pockets of magical beings outside of standard Wizarding settlements, and this area has an actual Nemeton, which explains the scarcity of your usual Wizarding types. I tested out as being an eligible candidate: what the local tribes call a 'Spark', so if I need to I can act, but the local population are relatively low in magic sensitives, so it's going to mostly be the Preserve Beings who I'll be responsible for as a Ministry liaison."

"Sounds interesting, though I think I'll have to arrange your potions to be delivered by owl. You'll be on them for a few years, so get a place backing onto the forest so it won't attract attention," commented Severus absently, poring through the extensive list of restorative potions. 

"Will do. I'm going to be the local Muggle equivalent of an Auror, a Deputy officer in local law enforcement, but I get full Alpha leader powers in the Auror structure here, so that will give me authority in the eyes of the centaurs, weres and lake dwellers like the Mers. They have an insane Kappa problem, apparently, so that will be the first thing to sort out according to the local Druid, who seems nice enough when he's not spouting the usual riddles and 'balance' gubbins. Strong Pack presence, which I think SHIELD is interested in; we've done a lot of training on the Pack politics and set up here. More different from Britain you couldn't get, it's rather impressive. You should come down once I've got their permission, get to know them; they are a very old Pack, been there since the town was funded and have connections through everything. Even had a couple of Mayors over the years."

"Once the assignment I have is completed, I'm tasked with getting as involved in the political and intellectual Were structures here. We want to get them more connected to the Ministry, recruit betas, that sort of thing, so I'll be coming to you from work at the least at some point." Remus looked slightly guilty as both Sirius and Severus turned to look at him sharply. "Before you start, we have been unexpectedly engaged this evening, but yes. I leave for Italy in two days time, expected to be away for 6 weeks initially. There are rumours among the Packs, and SHIELD need me to go in."

Sirius sighed. "Well, we knew this was coming. Speak with Xavier; he's got an interesting chap on his staff, name of Logan. Comes and goes, but teaches hand-to-hand combat when he's around, which he currently is. If he finds it interesting, he might go with you."


	32. No Passing Fancy

"So, how did it go?"  
Severus' eyebrow quirked in amusement as Harry and Draco seemed to be attempting to climb Sirius' robe where he stood brushing his shoulders off from the floo. 

"Come on, pigmy puffs, I've only been gone a few hours" Sirius mock-groused, while scooping them both up into his arms as they squealed with joy. "It was good, love. The staff seem friendly enough, although it's really weird to see muggles doing freaky stuff without magic. There's this one guy, has to wear these special glasses or he just burns things up with his eyes, though damned if I know how, he hasn't got a trace of magic. Bit of a nob, but maybe he's just not good round new people. His girlfriend was friendly enough; she's like the Professor, a natural Legilimens and Occlumens; can push things around with her mind too."

"And no magical core there either?"

"Nope. They don't feel quite the same as normal muggles, mind: there's no blank feeling when you try and sense them, but it's like a general low-level buzz rather than the focused core we're used to. Charles is fascinated by the difference, actually; wonders if what they call a mutation could actually be a dispersed core interacting at a molecular level. Hope you're impressed I remembered that, because I started to get a bit lost. I think you'll get on like a house on fire."

"Meaning 'very well', or 'screams and fireballs?" Severus replied drily. "I think I follow his meaning, though. If what we think of as a core of power, draining and refilling as used, is instead attached to every cell in the body, that might account both for the fuzziness you felt, and in the difference in how the power manifests. And really, Sirius, 'fuzziness'? I hope you aren't going to pass on such vague descriptions to your students, else we'll be trying to defeat Death Eaters with 'thingies' and 'whatsitcalleds."

Sirius snorted. 'Not everything in life has to be as precise as potions. Where's Remus, anyway?"

Severus looked amused. "In the garden with his contact from the school, Logan."

Sirius looked intrigued. 'The one who is going to Europe with him? What's he like?'

"Built like a brick outhouse, hard as bloody nails and about as prickly, but they seem o be getting on in that 'total opposites' way. Smoking the most disgusting cigar, which is why I'm in here rather than wreck my sense of smell for the next week,' Severus groused. "I'll have to use a Bubble-Head charm at dinner for me and the boys. Draco took to him immediately, so that's a good sign."

"Yeah, that's reassuring. Charles wants to know if you'd bring both boys with you on Thursday. Much as he wants to scan the scar on Harry, I think he's also intrigued by Draco's empathy. There's a kid at the school, Anna, completely touch starved. She can't physically touch people without draining their lifeforce, and while she has gloves to act as a barrier, the other kids are understandably wary. He theorises that Draco's emotional projection might help repair the damage to her psyche. I was a bit dubious, but she seems like a total sweetheart, just knocked for six by her powers."

"Well, if Narcissa and Remus agree, I can't see the harm in putting them in the same room together," mused Severus as they walked towards the gardens together, waving at Remus across the grounds where he stood chatting with the powerfully built Logan. "Are there many magicals at the school?"

"27 kids between 8 and 13, and three professors at the moment. A couple of the kids are what would be considered sentient creatures back at Hogwarts; an orvano with the most amazing blue fur and a brain the size of a planet, a kitsune and a couple of weres. The orvano's non-magical, of course, but couldn't be schooled in many other places, and he's a genius, so quite apart from never wanting an orvano to get bored...or a genius, for that matter, SHIELD are pretty much fast-tracking him through schooling until they can slot him into the technomancy department at MIT. He reminds me a bit of Arthur and his plugs - completely fascinated by my wand and would have taken my watch apart there and then if I'd let him. Complained about how unfair it was that he could see the magical frequencies but not touch them, and is fascinated by the thought of starting Potions in the fall term."

"There have been a couple of orvano Potion Masters over the last few centuries; it being the nature of the ingredients that provides the magic of course. As they can 'see' the magic, in a way, they can learn when to stir or blend. It will be an interesting challenge teaching him. I shall enjoy the near individual teaching process as well, rather than whole classrooms full of the incompetent and the unwilling. I'd have made a dreadful schoolmaster, but a tutor is quite a different experience, and I enjoyed the teaching part of the Mastery. Remus, Logan, our reprobate returns, and Pickle says that if we don't adjourn to the house for dinner she will serve it to the puppies. Which we will be talking about over dinner, Sirius.'

Sirius had the grace to look guilty as the other two men chuckled.

Narcissa, of course, had the rough and ready Logan figuratively spellbound within two minutes at dinner, much to the amusement of Captain Fury, or Nick as he had swiftly become known. The two men had dealt with each other many times, and it never failed to amuse Nick how the grouchy Wolverine softened like warm butter with certain women - females, he amended, thinking of the tender way Logan had dealt with the frightened young mutant girl Anna. Nick readily admitted he himself had fallen before Narcissa's deadly charm, which, while he enjoyed the three wizards' company, was the main reason he found himself accepting invitations so readily. There was just something about being the focus of her attention, and he, much like Logan, hadn't stood a chance once she had determined to gain his friendship. The older man was practically twinkling as he slowly demonstrated sliding out his adamantine claws at her request!

"Yes ma'am, the metal covers each of my bones, and something about the process stopped my aging. I look pretty good for nigh on 80, eh?"

"Are you saying you're immortal?" Narcissa asked with interest, Draco cooing and reaching out towards the shining blades from her lap. Logan laughed and retracted his claws, producing a giggle from Harry, who had claimed Logan's lap for his own chair as soon as the man had sat down.

"Well, I'll allow as that we haven't proved that one way or another, but I've healed from everything Hydra and Magneto have thrown at me so far, and sometimes they throw pretty hard. I won't assume I am, as that's a pretty clear way to making terminal mistakes, but I've not so much as sneezed since the procedure, so who knows."

\---------

The two men left for the Republic of Austro-Hungarian Wizardry not long after dinner. Severus and Sirius, who had reclaimed baby Harry after the farewell hugs, offered to see the children to bed, the two retriever pups bounding excitedly along in their wake, leaving Narcissa and Nick together in the cozy family sitting room off the kitchen.

"Out with it", Nick murmured, a smile playing across his lips. "You shouldn't be able to read me so soon, Nick", Narcissa reproved softly. "It's disconcerting.

"Field agent, sweetheart. Magic or no-maj, people share universal tells. You get the hang of those, pretty much everything you want to know is right there on people's faces. Including yours." 

"Well. I will simply have to work harder to remain inscrutable. I can't have you knowing all of my secrets, after all," she smiled. Nick chuckled softly. "I just know that you were debating saying something, not what that was. Don't worry, there will always be something inscrutable about you."

"As it should be, otherwise I would feel I had learned nothing from my family. Sirius somewhat excepted, subterfuge and intrigue are very much Black family traits, but with first a son who is an empath, and now, you. Well. Reading my face, learning my tells. It is rare that I have felt so open to scrutiny."

Nick looked at her with warmth in his gaze. "Well, it suits you. I like who I see, your fire and ice both. I'd like to know you better, if you think you could put up with a no-maj hanging around the place. I've got a good feeling about you, and Draco for that matter, and I think we'd make a good team if you gave us a shot."

Narcissa gave him a long, considering look. A disconnected part of her mind noted that never would she have thought about being involved with a muggle, and she wasn't so foolish as to think their radically different backgrounds might pose challenges, but her thoughts had drifted frequently to the fierce and charismatic man since they had met. He was startlingly attractive, but while they would make a striking couple, what attracted her most was his capable kindness and direct approach to life, the antithesis to Lucius in every way. Draco certainly adored him, and he Draco, and he seemed to understand her interconnection with Sirius and Remus almost instinctively, respecting their formal and informal bonds.

She knew that to those outside their respective circles she would come across as the pretty, trophy girlfriend, which she knew they would both be able to make use of to greatly benefit the family, and undoubtedly SHIELD too. Magicals, on the other hand, would dismiss him in their turn, again to their advantage. She could see in their current reactions to each other the seeds of a good partnership, as emotionally satisfying as politically beneficial, and so, analysis having confirmed what her heart was beginning to want, she stood up and crossed the room to where he sat, calmly waiting for her decision.

Internally he was anything but calm, but Nick expected nothing less than her quiet scrutiny. Quite apart from the fact she had the children to consider; and Nick knew that Harry was as much a child of her heart as Draco, she was a Slytherin through and through, and Nick had gotten to know a fair few of those in his time at SHIELD. She would weigh up the potential risks and rewards, much as he himself had done, but he had concluded they would be better together than either could be apart, and the emotional connection was already strong. He knew she was attracted to him physically - years of interpreting body language had not been for nothing - and she was stunning, but it would be for nothing if the result of her assessment differed. 

She smiled as she rose, and he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as he rose to meet her half way. Whatever happened next, he felt confident that wouldn't be a dull moment, as his smile rose to match her brilliant beam.

\------

The bed looked too big without Remus, and Sirius sighed as he pulled back the covers to get in. Severus always had cold feet, he mentally grumbled, and while normally he could curl into Remus' warmth, he was going to miss his personal hot water bottle for a multitude of reasons. However, it did mean he was going to be able to talk some things through with his Slytherin mate without potentially raising his wolf's hopes. And while Sev might have stupid cold feet, he did have an endearing tendency to snuggle at night, which had taken Sirius completely by surprise with how composed he was during the day.

A muffled snort from the bathroom caught his attention, and he turned his head to watch his husband walking towards him, with - oh gods! Severus merely raised one eyebrow as Sirius dissolved into laughter, though the twitch in his upper lip revealed that he was greatly enjoying the impact of his joke. On his slender feet he was wearing the most lurid bed socks that Pickle's evidently unhinged imagination, allowed free reign, could conjure up. The bright green padded socks had an array of purple and orange potion equipment literally dancing around them, and it was with reluctance that he had vetoed the chirpy little tune Pickle had suggested endowing them with, given that the trial version had been prone to randomly starting up with the Happy Hedgehog nursery song and he'd had to unravel them with his wand before the infernal noise would stop. As he described the tinny nightmare sounds they'd made Sirius' laughs grew more and more frantic, and Severus mentally noted to come up with something special for Pickle to thank her. His mate hated Remus being so far away, due to the traumatic start of their bond, whereas, having been unconscious for much of it, he and Remus could accept the necessity more easily. He could feel the contentment in the back of his mind as their far off mate felt their amusement, and knew that in itself that feeling would help Sirius.

He climbed into bed with less than his usual grace, working the socks effect for as long as possible, enjoying the now helpless giggles Sirius was reduced to, before reaching under his pillow and passing Sirius his own pair. These were, thankfully, a little more sedate, with a black dog chasing a grey and an auburn wolf over a soft red sock.

"Hopefully these will be enough to stop you complaining about my icy feet, pup, while I in turn won't be woken by your own as you try and climb my leg in your sleep." He laughed outright at the mock injured look he was given for that, and held out his arms. "Come here, you big lummox, and get comfortable with me, and you can let me know what you've been tiptoeing around Remus with the last few weeks, though don't think he isn't aware of you plotting."

Sirius snuggled into Severus side. "Really? Bugger, I was hoping he went off without a clue. It's nothing bad, ok? Ok. Don't laugh, but... I want a bigger pack. Cubs. I mean, kids. I don't really care how, whether we just start adopting every kid we can, or whether I got Harry's bearer genes in the blood bond, or whatever, but - look, I don't know why, but we're here, and we're safe, and we have all this room, and we're so good together, and the boys are so happy, and ... It's not something I ever thought I could have, you know? I think about Arthur and Molly and all those kids, and they've got no space or income, and she's pregnant again, but they make it work, you know? Arthur's got that permanent dazed and happy look on his face, and while I could take or leave Molly her kids are great, you know, and..." Severus held up his hand, smiling exasperatedly. 

 

"Breathe, for Nimue's sake, I get what you are saying. I can do a potion check on both of us about the gene thing, seeing as we're all blood bonded now, but why not talk to Remus about this? I can't see him refusing you this, not now he's made peace with his wolf. Frankly I thought he'd be raising it when he gets back from spending time in-pack."

The look of relief on Sirius's face lit him up, and made Severus pull him in tight against his chest. "Was it me? Did you think I wouldn't do anything I can to make you happy?"

"Merlin, no, Sev, don't even go there, it's not that at all!" Sirius burst out. "I didn't want to get Remus' hopes up unless the potion checked which meant I was always going to talk with you first. I was talking with Bob when they were here, and he commented how great this place would be for pack, and inter-pack councils, what with SHIELD security already in place. I know Nick and Peggy want Remus to act as SHIELD Alpha, but we already have the nucleus of our own pack here, rather than a SHIELD pack. We could bring the betas actually into the pack proper, rather than have this acting Alpha situation, which would make them and the pack more stable; which would mean an even more secure environment for children, as well as them ensuring the pack continues. We both know Harry isn't going to be a were Alpha after Remus, unless something goes drastically wrong, but a pack, Sev. A pack, family, packlands. Family in case something happened to us, keeping the boys safe for now, and brothers, sisters, so they would never be alone again."

His mind racing, Severus dropped a kiss on the black hair of his husband while he thought through the suggestion. He'd been firmly of the opinion that the best kids were other people's, and few and far between at that, but becoming a father had brought intense joy to his life, and he had accepted that, with his husbands beside him, he would never be like the parent his own, or Sirius' had been.

"There's no real point in testing Remus. I've no idea how he's done so well in recovering from the damage the Wolfsbane potion must have done, but I wouldn't want to stress his body; it's not as if he was born lycan. You'd had a fairly good chance of being a bearer before Harry's blood exchange, in fact we probably should have been thinking about that a little more. The Blacks are one of the carrier bloodlines from Taliesin, and share quite a few Potter ancestors. Don't look at me like that, some of us did work through the Black manuscripts Gringotts had stored. It would be interesting to see whether Harry's blood affected me through you; as far as I know it isn't a Prince trait and with my father being a muggle it's highly unlikely his bloodline carried the gene. It will take a couple of weeks to brew, but I can check us both before Remus gets home, and we can sit down, together, Siri, and work out ho we go from there."

He could feel the tension drain out of Sirius' body as his words sank in. He sighed. "Love, you don't ever have to worry about raising something with me, just because we were both assholes at school. I think you are right; we do have room and time, as well as obviously the galleons, and more kids would break down the title burdens for Harry. If neither of us can, or if it came to it, wants to carry children, or even if we both can, I think we should look into registering with the Ministry here for adoption and fostering anyway. Let's face it, there are going to be enough magical orphans before long that the system is going to be overwhelmed, and that's only from the muggleborn numbers, but there were 17 boys in Slytherin in our year, and there were at least that many in Ravenclaw, and you'd know better than me about Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. I know we lost a lot of heirs during the war, so there's hope that some of the years above us had the chance to children to take over their Houses, but the ones that are at danger of decaying will probably account for most of the pureblood orphan adoptions."

"Fuck, you're right, bloody hell. Most of the Twenty Eight, hell, the Fifty Six even, won't accept a muggleborn; half blood possibly, if they were related, but yeah, the Commonwealth is going to see an influx of orphan refugees once the railroad is operating. I think we should take this to the Professor, to be honest, get the school set up for child refugees, because we aren't going to be able to take them all here. We should get Nick to look into what the system is here anyway, maybe see if this is something Cissa would want to organize, because she is starting to get bored without her charities. I agree with you, though; we should talk with Remi about adopting as well, or instead." Sirius yawned. "Balls, I'm tired. I feel like I just played a full quidditch match."

Severus chuckled. "I guess that means no seducing you with the power of my socks then? Go to sleep, hound. Too much thinking obviously takes it out of you."

Whatever smart-ass remark Sirius tried to make was totally unintelligible, lost as it was muttered against his skin, but Severus huffed in amusement anyway. He'd never seen anyone be able to fall asleep between one word and the next, but Sirius had been granted the ability, prized by all aurors, of being able to grab 40 winks whenever the opportunity to do so presented itself. Remus swore the man could sleep on his broom. Though he wasn't an auror anymore, as being on the front page of every magical newspaper in the world tended to affect your recognition factor, it would probably come in quite handy when they did have more children. That thought was quickly followed by another. When, not if. Looked like his subconscious was already geared up for the new challenge.


	33. Concatenation

Harry's second birthday was nearly upon them before a travel worn Remus and Logan finally returned to Westchester in a Quinjet piloted by Nick Fury; a retrieval mission for the Captain after a long and hazardous campaign to win allies throughout Europe had finally ended in a missed contact leading to a very dead agent-in-place. It had taken two long, boring weeks of negotiation before the shackles had been removed on the 'Western' side of a bridge in Germany, the Russian Magical Government being a damn sight more open to compromise and reason. Two minor Hungarian betas had been 'publicly' exchanged for the far more valuable Were and Mutant, satisfying the mundane Party officials who believed they were retrieving more capable assets in what had been quite a complicated bit of work by the Magical Secretariat. 

Remus and Logan had had time to heal from the savage beating they had taken when the last pack turned out to be more committed to Lucius Nameless than had been implied. In truth, Logan at least could have got free at any point, but it had been made brutally clear that both men were hostages to the other's conduct, and Remus had been the comparatively weaker target. The Weres they had run into were little more than muggles, which at least meant they had been reliant on cudgels and boot-tips rather than wands, and more importantly had had to resort to their muggle underground connections to reach a Lucius who was probably still unaware of who they had given up. The fact that Logan had restrained himself for his more injured companion's state had done much to forge a friendship between the two men. 

True to his moniker, the solitary mutant would never settle into a pack structure, nor did it seem likely he could be turned given the satisfyingly broken teeth two Weres had gotten themselves upon trying, but he made a strong and dependable, and until the last pack the mission had been, by and large, a success. Twenty three packs had committed to a neutral stance, eighteen had signed alliance concords with both the ICW and the Lupin pack, while of the fifteen predictably declared for Lucius only the last had ditched diplomatic guest-rights. There were other, smaller roaming packs that had not been contacted due to their nomadic nature, but their unwillingness to come into contact with any other sentient creatures made it equally unlikely for them to flock to the Death Eater banner. SHIELD was understandably, delighted with their achievements, with more than three quarters of the were pack population either out of the war altogether or committed to fighting against Lucius' banner.

Still, it had been a long three and a half month tour made longer by their imprisonment, and the two men were understandably eager to finish the SHIELD/MoM briefing that Mycroft himself had flown over for. Logan would be flying back with Mycroft, piloting himself this time, to do similar work within the UK sentient creature communities, who were somewhat reluctant to deal directly with a Ministry that still regarded them as second class citizens.

The debriefing had not been the only reason for Mycroft's presence. Accompanied by the redoubtable Ragnok, two Goblin Elders and one estate manager had been waiting in the comfortably subterranean SHIELD HQ for Remus and Mycroft to finish up. The spell work having been tested as much as possible, and accompanied by a truly gargantuan elderly python, the Elder Spellweavers were ready to attempt the removal of and destruction of the embedded Horcrux in Harry.

"Harry is my akentat, my ward, your nearest term is. You and I, we have rescued him, protected him and offered him sanctuary. In my culture, he is as much my responsibility as if I had fostered him, and it would be unthinkable for any goblin to perform invasive spell work on him without my signatures and presence. And I think you would not like to bring Lord Potter to London in such times, hmm? So need must bring an old goblin to your door, and I will eat your food and drink your firewhisky and guarantee with my life that these goblins shall not harm him. It will be a most excellent evening!"

As exhausted as he was, Remus at least managed to make the appropriate pleasantries and welcome before practically falling through the floo and into the waiting arms of Severus.

"You don't look as bad as we feared, so that is something," decided Severus, after scanning Remus thoroughly. "I'll let Sirius scold you; he's been practicing, so it's only fair. I'm glad you're home, mutt; we've missed you to a ridiculous extent."

"How bad was it," Remus asked, eying Severus' more than normally drawn features.

"Things were fine until all of a sudden they weren't," came the somber reply. "I'm better at shielding because of the occlumency, but Sirius had already started to fret before you missed your contact, before the first beating. We could tell you were being hurt, but Sirius appeared to actually feel a degree of your pain, probably for a number of reasons, and not being able to see it coming was playing hell with his anxiety levels, which was causing its own problems. The first weekend you were captured we had to have Jean here shielding him at a moments notice. We had to move Draco and Harry to Narcissa's wing as Draco was picking up on too much."

"Fucking hell, Sev, I'm so sorry," Remus began, before being cut off by Severus' impatient snort and rough hug. "Don't be absurd. Neither of us saw this coming, it's not like we didn't all understand the risks and agree -hell, six months ago Sirius would have been with you, not Logan. It was just an unfortunate event chain; he's agreed to see a mind healer for PTSD, SHIELD have agreed to him working two days as a Defense trainer at HQ rather than push for active duty, and Charles or Jean have had him under 24/7 light monitoring until we confirm it isn't needed anymore."

Remus stopped in the hallway, forcing Severus to turn and make eye contact. "Ok, the PTSD I understand, but this sounds a hell of a lot more complex if he's on, what, fucking suicide watch? What the fuck is going on here, Severus?"

Severus stood, concern in his eyes as he studied the panicked face of his husband. "Will you accept my word that he's safe until you're in the same room? I promised him I'd let him explain, and"...

"It's ok, Sev," came the tired voice of the man in question. "I didn't mean for Remus to get freaked out, but can't you feel how scared he is?" Sirius stepped out from behind Severus to face Remus head on, and the lycan couldn't help but gasp at how drained his other husband looked as he hurried towards him, ready to hold him upright if possible. "Welcome home, Remi. It's not all doom and gloom, and I'm not dying, or anything dreadful. I'm just having an epically shit first trimester. Prenatal depression, morning sickness, the works. You're going to"- and there he trailed off as Remus, for only the third time in his life, fainted dead away.

"Well, that went well, don't you think?" he muttered to himself, as Severus scooped their husband up and laid him down on the nearest sofa. "Pickle, can you ask Narcissa to join us for a few minutes when she can? And would you bring me some of those ginger crackers?"

\-------

Ragnok, arriving a couple of minutes after, took one look at the events in the front parlour and, grinning in what Sirius felt was a slightly sadistic manner, helped himself to one of Sirius' ginger crackers and had himself whisked off to Harry and Draco's playroom by the reliably stoic-in-the-face-of-crisis Tweedle. The Elders had remained at HQ to prepare for the ceremony, settling the snake into their quarters and ensuring that the Dementor had been obtained and held under strict conditions. Remus sat, gaze fixed on Sirius' stomach in wonder, as Narcissa, practical as ever, checked them both over after ordering Severus to sit down and hush."

"We couldn't get hold of you, obviously, and what could we have done anyway if we had?" asked Sirius, a bit petulantly. "I'd asked Sev to brew a potion to find out if I was even a carrier, which, obviously, a big fat yes to that one, but it took two weeks to brew, by which time we thought I had Wizarding Flu and I was banished into quarantine until the boys were vaccinated."

"Otherwise known as 'stayed in bed for the day while St Hedwig's got a mediwitch out with the vaccines', Sirius, don't exaggerate", reproved Narcissa. 

"Hello, have we met?" Sirius snapped back defensively."Anyway, she sorted the boys out, so that's done at least, if ahead of schedule, and then she came to see me, ran her scans and voila, pregnant with two probable wolf cubs, being as how they are unmistakably yours."

"I didn't think you could tell this early," Remus said confusedly.

"Yes, well, the intensifying of the bond sensation, as well as simple mathematics, rather gave that one away," rejoined Severus. "We knew the minute you'd been captured, for instance, but we also knew, thanks to Sirius, every time a meeting had gone well or failed, if you had a headache, a nightmare, a flashback, the feeling of your shift..."

"Which, can I just say thank Merlin's scraggy beard you'd gotten sorted out before getting me knocked out, because I think I'd have gone mad," admitted Sirius. "I nearly did anyway. The time difference has been horrendous; in the end we just kept Central European time here, because I would wake up, and wake Sev up, with anxiety attacks if you so much as raised your heart rate, which is apparently mostly down to the PTSD SHIELD diagnosed, as it's a recognized thing. 

Add to that, I'm not handling the hormone load very well. Turns out 60% of male carriers have difficulties processing the hormones, which can trigger pre-or postnatal depression, and let's just say, with the last six months I was a pretty much guaranteed shoe in for a big dose of all fucked up. Which we'd have known if we'd looked into the possibility of pregnancy before I got pregnant, but as none of us were thinking about that until afterwards, here we are, and I just have to deal. I'm on a couple of pregnancy safe potions Sev developed for me after I was allergic to the usual one, and apparently that's starting to have an effect, though I have to take their word for it, I guess."

"Oh, believe me, they are. I'm not sure how aware of yourself around 9 weeks you were, but that was when Jean pretty much moved in." Narcissa noted. "Ok. Your blood pressure is fine, Siri, but you are staying put until I tell you otherwise. Remus, yours is a little low, probably due to shock, so you are staying put until you have drunk some exceedingly sweet tea and had some crackers, and then I'll check you again. I'm going to fetch the boys, and you will hold Draco until Draco decides otherwise, Sirius Black."

"Is Draco ok?" Remus asked, worriedly. This had to be one of the most whirlwind days, emotionally, that he'd ever had, but he couldn't deal if Draco had been suffering because of the mission too.

Sirius nodded quickly. "He's amazing, actually. There were a rough couple of days when Cissa had to keep him in her wing, because he was picking up my emotions, but then he must have figured something out for himself, because he kept pushing, not exactly happy, but contentment at me. It works best if we're in contact with each other, and he hates it if I put him down before he gets down of his own accord! But he's pretty much doing it whenever he's awake, and sometimes I get random sleep bursts as well, but he clearly isn't planning that. Charles thinks he'll be able to do it automatically before he's school age; that strong empathy can be 'boosted' by this sort of exposure, but their emotional shielding is far better as well. So Cissa decided she'd prefer him to be able to protect himself while he's still young enough for the process to confuse rather than scare him. She took both the boys to Nick's the weekend you were taken though. I, well. I don't remember much of it, until Charles and Jean got here and muffled the link, but Draco was screaming in the other wing while Sev was trying to deal with me, and she had to get him out. It wasn't good."

"I don't really get it though," admitted Remus. "I mean, sure, it wasn't pleasant, but even when it was happening it wasn't anywhere near as bad as the night with Peter, and I was healing afterwards each time. You've had worse in Auror training."

"Charles thinks, and the Mind Healer agrees with him, that the sensations through the bond, amplified by your blood in both the twins, was enough to trigger Sirius into PTSD flashbacks of how hurt you were the night we bonded, and of him not knowing if we were both going to die, and knowing how close you came to death. It triggered a physical, chemical surge in his brain, leading it to interpret and amplify the signals as pain, fear and despair. I sent a patronus to Charles and knocked Siri out with Dreamless Sleep until he and Jean arrived, and then they worked shielding the bond from any but mild input from you, until the Healers arrived and put him under to flush the chemicals from his brain while making sure they didn't damage the hormone supply to and from the babies." 

Both Remus and Sirius were shaking at this point, from a shared exhaustion and the comedown from their respective panic attacks, and Severus was clearly in anguish himself at the state of his mates, when Draco toddled into the room, closely followed by Harry, who squealed with delight when he saw Remus. Draco, though, made a beeline straight to Sirius, and, climbing up onto the sofa, he seated himself firmly on Sirius' lap, sparing only a glance at Remus before concentrating on stroking Sirius' cheek with one pudgy hand. 

After a moment Sirius sighed and sagged in relaxation. The feeling coming through the bond to Remus was immediately calming, and he felt his own muscles relax. He looked over at his mate, who gave him a wry little smile. "Give him ten minutes, and you won't believe how much better you'll feel. He's pretty incredible, and more than that, there's a pretty good likelihood that he saved five lives these past weeks. Amazingly, he doesn't seem at all phased; he comes along, rebalances me, then gets down and plays with Harry like any other two year old; just as loving as always and just as much energy as Harry. Charles thinks the puppies probably have helped there; his one, Sammy, is pretty much already his familiar, and it's happening, although more slowly, with Harry's Bo."

Remus nodded, his face being peppered with kisses by an enthusiastic Harry while the black and golden retrievers gambolled merrily at his feet. Above the sudden little burst of noise, he could just about hear Sirius' soft question, and turned to look at him, pouring all the love he felt through their connection as Draco giggled on the other man's lap.

"Oh Siri, of course I'm happy about the babies. Near enough shocked tailless; upset I wasn't here for you and Sev, and worried about your health, but I'm thrilled we are going to be parents again. I just need to know you are going to be ok, and that you're going to let us look after you, and I'm going nowhere without either of you, as clearly neither you or I should be allowed to go anywhere without adult supervision. Let's face it, Sev is our responsible adult for the next few weeks at least."

"Oh, joy unconfined," came the dry reply. But from the look on his face, Remus reckoned, that not only was Severus content with that role, he quiet clearly was going to take it very seriously indeed.

Whoops.


	34. Freedom

"I'm sorry, Sirius, you simply can't come anywhere near a Dementor at the moment! They wouldn't be able to control it around you, and none of us wants to put you through your worst memories!"

"I should be there for Harry!" Sirius raged from inside the firm grip of Remus' arms, struggling to break free.

"I will be there with Harry, as will Ragnok, Narcissa, Charles, two Spellweavers from Ragnok's own clan and half of bloody SHIELD, not to mention Mycroft and Logan," Remus calmly repeated for what felt like the tenth time. "You and Severus will be here, away from the Dementor, which neither of you are going to get anywhere near to. You are staying here, with Draco, to protect him from having to be there, and with Jean to help shield you all. This is not open to discussion any more, Sirius. I can and I will compel you as your Alpha, but I just want you to be rational about this!"

Narcissa walked into the floo room, carrying a wriggling Draco. "Stop this at once, Cousin; this is upsetting for all of us. I need you to take Draco for me, so you need to pull yourself together, be the calm adult for Draco and reduce the stress you are broadcasting while we are at HQ. If you can't pull yourself together, I can and will spell you so full of Dreamless Sleep that you'll be out till this time tomorrow. " she looked at him with understanding. "That is an option anyway if you wish, Cousin. No one would judge you if you chose to spare yourself stress."

Severus nodded gravely, taking Remus' place in holding Sirius, but Sirius shook his head. "No, if neither of us can be there then I'm not just going to opt out of what I can do. I just don't like leaving Harry to go through this without my being there. It's not right."

"It's not just Harry you have to think of, though, it's the babies. There is a reason that pregnancies attracted wild dementors before the Ministry's round up, and with twins as well as yours and Severus' trauma, there is just too much to risk tempting the one they've got; plus if it's going for either of you, it isn't getting that thing out of your son. Remus, we should go; Nick will be waiting at HQ for us." Narcissa reached up and softly kissed Sirius' cheek at that, then rested her hand lightly on Remus' arm, clearly signifying the moment was over. Remus formally inclined his head to her, took one last look at his husbands, and escorted her to the floo, where Ragnok waited with the still -sleeping Harry in his arms.

"It will be fine, Siri," Severus said quietly, watching them go. "Ragnok talked through the ritual thoroughly last night, and the Spellweavers are his own clan. The success of this rests on his shoulders, and they have practiced this on the other Horcruxes without any mishap. We have to trust in their ability and knowledge. Harry couldn't go on much longer like this without his personality being affected, so it's time. Let's go and wake Draco for breakfast, if you are calm enough, and we can get through the day."

 

\-------

True to his word, Nick was waiting by DDO Carter's private office Floo for the family to come through, taking Narcissa' arm immediately and leading them through the early morning corridors to the well warded ritual room where the goblin Elders waited. The huge Python was curled within the carved circle, forming a complete inner perimeter, its aged eyes watching them enter in milky indifference. He tasted the air as Harry, spelled immobile in sleep, was placed in the centre of the complicated sigils, but otherwise seemed completely uninterested in the proceedings. One of the Spellweavers knelt to speak softly to him, touching the broad, flat head with affection, before muttering the invocation that bound him likewise to immobile sleep.

"The snake has consented to his role in the ritual," Ragnok said in a soft murmur. "He is old, even for one of his kind, and his own magic has been failing him of late. He wishes to end as he has lived, in being of use and protection. We will honour him and preserve him in the Sanctum for all time."

The other Elder approached. "We have arranged a protection of sorts in this corner, so that the effect of the dementor can be mitigated somewhat, but there is no warding that can negate it. Harry will have to stay inside the circle until the soul piece is destroyed, but the sigils will prevent the dementor from reaching him. Please remember that the dementor has consented to participate in the ritual, and cannot help its nature. Once you are behind the ward, we shall begin."

\------

A piercing shriek yanked Sirius away from his reverie by the nursery window, where he had been staring vaguely as Dobby exercised the boisterous puppies. Severus was already rushing over to where Draco had fallen to the floor, his back arched in clear pain, closely followed by Jean Grey. 

"Shield him!" yelled Sirius frantically, as Severus began chanting spells frantically to cushion the floor beneath Draco and loosen the rigor the boy was locked in. The  
screaming abruptly stopped as a feeling of anxiety washed over the two men from the bond. Sirius gritted his teeth at the withdrawal of his mental shielding, but focused on assisting Severus to make the unconscious boy comfortable.

The sudden wash of relief hit both men, but as they anxiously watched, there was no change for Draco.

"I don't understand," mused Severus. "Harry is clearly fine, or Remus would be projecting, so what is going on here?"

Jean shook her head, her face ashen. "I've no idea. It's taking all I have to hold him stable. There is a sensation of searching, reaching for something, but it isn't at all articulate. I can't hear Charles, either. The soul fragment is out, I caught that much before he cut off, but I should at least be able to hear him if he's able to project."

Severus nodded, himself grey with strain. "Everyone lives, I am sure of it, and there is nothing other than a mix of relief and anxiety coming from Remus." 

"Put him on the bed, Sev, and Pickle, get Dobby to bring the pups here as soon as possible. We should - hang on, Remus is coming back. He's rushing. Not panicking, but determined. What the fuck? I'm going to meet him, you stay here with Draco."

He almost tripped over Dobby and the pups, who were too young to be apparated, coming through the door. As Sammy bounded over to Draco and Bo turned round and headed out of the door, Severus could hear urgent voices and the sound of at least four feet running along the hardwood floor leading from the floo room downstairs. 

"Draco's the same," he could hear Sirius saying as they were coming up the stairs. "You say Charles is shielding him from HQ? Jean's got Draco -calm down, Bo! - right, in here, Ragnok."

The door swung open, and Ragnok came hurrying in, a limp Harry in his arms. Quickly he crossed the room to place Harry next to Draco, the dogs both jumping up on the bed and each lying down by their boy. Harry's had reached out towards Draco's, and the minute they contacted a silvery haze seemed to spin out of the very air around them, which Ragnok eyed with a pleased satisfaction. Jean jerked in surprise. "Our shields have been broken!" she exclaimed.

"Is that what I think it is?" Remus breathed? Ragnok nodded. "Usually this happens later in life, by which time it takes a particular act to kickstart the process and leaves the participants unconscious while it takes place, so the effect is not properly documented, but what you are seeing here is a spontaneous soul bonding. We theorized this might happen once we had observed the boys' interaction, particularly the automatic shielding Draco provided Harry with, but also their mirroring actions, speech and body language. Our thoughts were that the boys have always been destined for each other, but the containment field, indeed, the very Horcrux itself, was preventing the connection from forming. At the instant the Horcrux was transferred to our snake, their souls began reaching out to find each other, and the distance, it would appear, was too great to sustain consciousness."

"Draco looked to be in pain initially," worried Severus, looking down at the now peaceful boys. "The dome is covering the pups, too, I don't understand that."

"Is that a familiar bond being woven in? How is that even possible?" wondered Remus. Ragnok nodded. "You had mentioned that you thought there was a familiar bond in progress to some extent with both of the boys and the pups, yes? Usually this is a very gradual process, but a familiar bond is essentially a minor soul bond, you must realize. This is how familiars live as long as their bonded partner does, unless they are slain. Harry's soul has been constrained for so long, it is greedy for the connections it was blocked from making. You will probably notice some difference yourselves once these two are done; not as strongly, for your blood bond has carried much of the familial transfer, but an increase in awareness and affection even so."

"Do you know how long this will last?" Narcissa was standing as close as possible to the boys without touching the silvery dome, her eyes full of concern and wonder."

"No idea, dear Lady," Ragnok admitted candidly. "One of the Elders will be here soon; they are dealing with our Python friend while the Dementor is returned to the Cube, but they will want to record this event for our Records. Griphook will also arrive this evening; he will confirm the soul bonding and uniting of the Houses of Black and Malfoy, though I imagine you will not want it registered in Britain given the current turmoil. As long as it is registered in one country, however, it is recognized by law in all, and we can have the record sealed here while they are minors, which is advantageous."

"Well, we may as well make ourselves comfortable here," decided Remus, drawing Sirius into his arm and holding his hand out for Severus to join them on the adjacent bed while they waited. Narcissa sat on the comfy sofa, while Ragnok perched on the window seat, and they began waiting for their children to awaken. 

\------

"Interesting," noted Sherlock, his fingers lightly steepled together. "How long did the process take?"

"About three hours, although unfortunately they were not precise with their timings. Ragnok has assured me he will let me view the memory once he returns to Gringotts, so we will have more precise data then."

"Good. Let me see, the one from Harry is disposed of, which will have damaged Riddle immensely; the Founders' Cup and Locket are dealt with as well, as is the diary. I do wish you'd kept that one back to allow me to examine it, Mycroft, it might have revealed much in that format. Part of his soul, in a communicable format!"

"It was part of Ragnok's terms that no one try; he believed the danger of entrapment and subsequent harm to Harry to be too high. It's done, and in any case, I'm sure we can infer that the ramblings of a megalomaniac differ little from one to another. A reading of Mein Kampf, transposed to our own culture, would undoubtedly suffice. They are never terribly original, after all."

"True,"nodded Sherlock. "Now, I think it obvious that he had a desire to possess and corrupt items from the Hogwarts Founders. Interesting that it would be them only, and not any of equally or more significant figures, although we should still try and locate that all last known relics of Merlin, the Peverell's, Elizabeth, Owain and the Bruce are undisturbed. The over-emphasis on the Founders does reveal a certain juvenile mindset, of course."

"Yes, quite. I think we should leave the most obvious of the Gryffindor artefacts until last; I don't want to alert Dumbledore of the matter and it is highly unlikely that he would allow any of the Ministry to examine the sword, for fear it would be returned to the correct vault at Gringotts." Mycroft sipped delicately at his tea, appreciating the subtle blend before continuing. "Obviously he regards himself as the ultimate Slytherin, so I would not be surprised if the locket was not the only relic of that Founder used."

"Of course, the most famous one from Ravenclaw would be the Diadem, and it so happens I know exactly where that is," Sherlock calmly stated, rather enjoying the slightly raised eyebrow the announcement produced.

"And you didn't say anything?" enquired Mycroft

"Merlin, no, what would be the point? It's perfectly safe where it is, or rather it was, going by the amount of dust over and around it; I didn't want to bring myself to the Ministry's official notice any more than being your brother has done, and I certainly wasn't doing any favours for Dumbledore."

"Was there anything malign about it?" Mycroft was genuinely curious, given the oddly compelling miasma surrounding the others.

"I wouldn't know, My. Compulsion spells seem to roll off me, as you know, and other than noting its presence I didn't bother touching the thing. There is so much clutter stored in there, the whole place stank of furtiveness and desperation anyway, plus there are enough stored dark artefacts there to give the Ministry a plausible excuse to examine it officially."

Mycroft shook his head. "No, we shouldn't involve the Ministry as yet. We haven't identified all the yes-men's level of involvement with Riddle as yet; the Marked ones were not the only followers and it would be best not to give one the opportunity to help his leaders by having it disappear before we get there. Where the Horcrux situation is concerned, I trust you, the Triad, Ragnok's clan and Bernard, and Bernard isn't suitable for this task."

"Filius is one of Ragnok's clan, which would give us an in, of course. He is still my Mastery supervisor, so it would be unremarkable if we visited him.

"Set it up for the next Gryffindor match, then, which should keep both Dumbledore and Minerva out of the way. I don't want to have her connected in his mind to either of us for as long as that can be managed. He believes her to be his staunchest ally, and I would prefer that to be the case for as long as possible. Filius is a Ward Holder, and will be more than enough for our purpose." 

Mycroft rose from his chair, the brothers' public time together constrained as usual within normal appointment timings as Sherlock ostensibly reported his case progression to his brother. "I'll see you at Trewissick house at 12pm on match day. Give Greg my regards, and I'll have Ragnok bring you in when he gets back; see what you think."


	35. The Raid

The floor was going to get a groove in it, the way he was pacing back and forth. It was really beginning to annoy her, but Lucius always had to dramatize everything, and he was evidently determined that fault for none of the missing Horcruxes would be pinned on him. As he'd been imprisoned at the time the diary and locket had been confiscated by the Ministry, he had far more deniability than her, and he knew it, but with the loss of the Malfoy name, finances and society he was in no position to challenge her leadership. 

While his failure to secure the majority of the European Werepacks he had rashly promised his connections would bring was a setback for the campaign to bring the country to their Lord wrapped in a shiny bow, it had been a useful check to his ambition at a time when it was ready to resurface. He knew his place, at least for the moment, but she was never going to trust him to just stay there.

"We have to secure the ring before the Ministry locate it, Bellatrix. It's been negligent to leave it so long. The diary had our Lord's name on the back, so sooner or later the Unspeakables are going to connect him to the Gaunt family line; it's not as if it's the usual auror buffoons are leading the hunt for him. If we let the ring go, he will end one or both of us." 

Nimue take the man, but he was right about this, and Bellatrix mentally kicked herself for not having thought this through. "Were you inside with him when he hid it? I was shadowing the Potters that day, so I don't know how he protected it," she admitted.

Lucius looked smug. "As a matter of fact, not only was I with our Lord, but I prepared one of the guarding traps and observed the setting of all the others. I will need one or two spare bodies, disposables of course, and at least four scouts, but it can be done today and secured in your esteemed relative's vault, presuming you wish to remain allied to Nott, that is."

"I have to tolerate him. If we keep him away from society and from our activities, those bloody goblins will have no excuse to seize his vault, and we need their protection levels. Thank Merlin he was alone and out of the country during the Fall. His brainless young wife is the only one who goes into the Alley, so unless they pick him up for something outside our control, it will be safe. I have ensured that the French Ministry are not inclined to hand him over in any case."

Lucius inclined his head. "You will need to Imperio her to hide it safely in the vault, and to forget having done so. I have a couple of items stored at Burke's, amongst them a small curse box which should suffice to keep its content hidden. Instruct Nott that you will be arriving to take care of the matter this evening."

Bellatrix drew herself up stiffly as she looked coldly at the fallen aristocrat. "You forget yourself, Lucius Nameless. Concentrate on finding our Lord's Horcrux, and allow me to focus on finding a safe place."

\--------

The bell attached to the floo at the Trewissick safe house rang, alerting both Biddle and Sherrinford to the newest arrivals. Sherlock strode into the study to find both his brothers and a plate of steaming hot crumpets waiting for him. He helped himself to a crumpet while Mycroft began.

"We're meeting Filius at the Three Broomsticks in half an hour, which should get us up to the school around the time the game commences. He reports that Dumbledore has placed quite a tidy wager on the outcome of the game, which usually ensures he remains until the snitch is caught. Both seekers are on a par, so unless one of them is extremely fortunate, we should have a reasonably prolonged match covering our entrance to and egress from the school."

"Filius is, of course, intigrigued by the notion of observing an object such as this, and given that it may be useful to have another searcher for the remaining Horcruxes, I have allowed him to come to the Room with us. He will spell his rooms with the usual Do Not Disturb charm,so that a casual sweep will show us in there, but it will not stand up to suspicious examination, he warns. I think he is also intrigued by the charms on the room itself, which may also gave us an explanation if caught by staff of bounds, although the more adept would be able to sense it at that close a range."

Sherlock nodded. "I've got a bag with me that a squib brought into the Camden station, which she said her uncle had left to her recently, and which apparently made her skin crawl. I've conducted experiments, and going by the various traces, it seems as if it was used to muffle the dark aura of dark objects, although whether it will have any effect on a Horux level object, I don't know. It might be useful for other objects. If it's as I left it, we should be able between us to cover the room with relative swiftness to locate anything else of a nefarious nature. Given the dramatic increase in maternal visits this year, I think we may safely assume that more than one child has been inveigled into hiding the occasional artifact, and if the Room was as full as it was we must accept it to be a somewhat open secret over generations."

Sherrinford looked grave. "I would leave all that to Filius to scan, brother. This should be treated as a high priority retrieval mission, in military ideals, with a quick in and out being the safest procedure. I can't see why this wouldn't apply in your world too. You must not let your intrigue with potential other resources distract you from your primary object. The children are there till mid-December; anything there today would be there until the next Hogsmeade visit, so play it safe, particularly you, Sherlock."

It wasn't often that Sherrinford felt his younger brothers to be in need of guidance, and people often overlooked the fact that he possessed a mind equivalent to theirs under the bluff bonhomie of a military officer of high rank. When, therefore, he did see it as necessary, even Sherlock gave his opinion due respect, even with the disappointment he felt at a missed opportunity. 

"Now, you have 5 minutes to get to the Floo, My, so I have enough time to let you know that the first muggle family will be leaving from Holmes Place tomorrow, if you'll advise the Americans. I have received a couple of solid tips from two of your tykes this week, Sherlock, placing an orphaned five or six year old in a squat off the Elephant and Castle. My men will be bringing him in this afternoon if it pans out. They did very well, identified the right sentry without approaching on both occasions; made the signal and dead-drop perfectly, so please pass on my appreciation with the finders fee."

Sherrinford's connections, and the very conspicuous army guards on duty at high profile addresses throughout Muggle London, were proving a good partnership with the Baker Street Runners who acted only if they believed that a potential muggle born needed an immediate extraction. The chain had only been initialized on three occasions so far, each successful, and while the runners knew to keep as much as possible low key and reported to Sherlock, it was good that they felt confident to use their own judgement in emergencies. The initial success was prompting both Sherlock and Sherrinford to visit other garrison towns across the UK to set up communication networks between the local street rats and the squib officers dotted throughout all ranks of the Armed Forces. Internally, and with Her Majesty's support as Commander in Chief, the operation was quietly promoted as rescuing vulnerable children, in a way that the street kids, unwilling to go near police officers, were able to access.

\------

Filius Flitwick was calmly enjoying lunch with his Great Uncle Ragnir when Mycroft and Sherlock came through the busy floo at the Three Broomsticks, and after smooth introductions and farewells, establishing a low-key meet up, the three men strolled up to the school with the steady stream of Match Day parents. Ragnir remained in Hogsmead, ostensibly enjoying his time away from the bank in contemplation of the Broomstick's ales and some shopping, but there to ease the Holmes brothers journey back to Gringotts, or raising the alarm by a certain time.

They had the misfortune to run straight into Dumbledore, who seemed keen for them to join him in the stands, and who stood quite comfortably chatting with Sherlock about his Mastery thesis until an agitated Minerva came bustling up.

"Albus, for goodness sake, Madam Hooch is only waiting for you to blow the whistle, and the third and fourth years are getting restless. You'll have to catch up with the Holmes' later! Come on!" 

She strode off in a blur of tartan, her Gryffindor Lions hat bobbing merrily on her head, and Dumbledore spread his hands genially. "The good Professor has spoken, gentleman, and I must say farewell. I do hope I can catch you later" - the last called over his shoulder as he turned, prompting an uneasy look from Filius. "Drat the man, always fishing," he grumbled almost to himself. 

Mycroft merely raised an eyebrow, but said only "of course, I'd hoped to be in and out without his notice, but if we have caught his interest we may not have as long as we would like. You'd better guide Filius to where we are going, Sherlock; if we can be in the office when he comes looking it would be best."

\---------

The little lane was little more than a muddy track, but apparition so close to the ramshackle hut Ridfle's mother had called home was highly ill advised. Not that his wardrobe would be much damaged by the dirt; the silks, linens and brocade favoured by the former Malfoy Lord were shredded and left outside the wards of the estate, an act that Narcissa would pay for before too long. Still, it would be unpleasant to slip, and the lane itself held various traps for the unwary. Which was why three of the more simple-minded Nameless were walking in front of him, leaving enough distance for any area effect curses to trigger without catching him, while he made certain to tread in their footsteps.

The more intelligent scouts inconspicuously manned the ward points around the property, which had luckily not been tampered with. There was no warmth coming through the amulet he wore to monitor them whilst in the cottage; with eyes on potential access points he would have time to respond to intruders.

The front man went down win a silent scream, his feet drumming against the soft earth until his convulsions stopped. Incurious, the two men following trudged past his red face without appearing to notice his bulging eyes and protruding tongue. A particular favourite of Abraxus' that one.

The door was not the safe way into the hut, being festooned with short and long term curses, and Lucius led the men around the left hand side until he found the doorway Voldemort had created, then hidden. As the one who had warded the hut exterior Lucius was the only other person secured to the blood wards, thus bypassing a necrotising curse that was so good, it had been replicated on the ring itself. 

The interior stank. The guarding snakes had brought their prey animals in for the kill, and regurgitated the bones around the perimeter of the room, not always with all the flesh consumed. Snakes flickered the air with their tongues, cataloging his scent but making no move towards him as he approached the key floorboard. Save a rather nasty evisceration curse, which Lucius had placed himself, Voldemort had relied overmuch on the presence of the extremely venomous snakes to bother placing much else on the box, although the ring inside would need careful curse breaking. The dust and floorboards were clearly undisturbed, and so, Lucius levitated the ring box into his own curse-box, cancelled the anti-apparition net and apparated back to their Headquarters, leaving his meat-shields behind to get themselves out of the path of the departing snakes. Or not.

\------

Filius stood, enthralled by the tracery of charms that layered the inside of the room, while Mycroft studied the report parchment issued from his wand. Despite Sherrinford's concerns, there were items in here that could not be left behind now Dumbledore knew they were both in the castle, and he only hoped the bag would contain the aura of both the Horcrux and the fifteen or so Dark objects within 3 metres. The room itself appeared to be the size of the Great Hall, and Sherlock was currently clambering over furniture and precariously stacked trunks to reach a tall pedestal on which stood an extremely ugly bust, presumably with the Diadem on top. 

Casting the necessary spells to enlarge the interior of the bag, Mycroft gingerly used a broken quidditch bat to knock the first cursed item, which looked like a rather elaborate Chinese finger-trap, inside it. Three books, exuding malevolence, followed in fairly short order, as did four wands made of blackened wood which would need analysis to find their stored curses, which could have been released by the weakest child in the school and make of them a murderer. A baroque hand mirror, it's glass cracked, was buried in amongst a pile of out of date Herbology texts that had themselves been ordered destroyed after a misprint in the run had produced most unfortunate results.

He looked up at a particularly fine sequence of curse words, probably picked up from his street rats, coming from Sherlock, who was on his way back, sweat beading on his pale brow. His brother was clearly struggling, and Mycroft abandoned the trunk with the whispering rustle in order to reach his side. 

"Get the bag open," gritted out Sherlock."The bloody thing is trying to get me to put it on. If I hadn't grabbed Greg's gloves.." he trailed off, appearing to wrestle the fragile crown into the bag.

"Don't touch anything else with them, and burn them as soon as we get out," instructed Mycroft. The oily, seeping sensation exuding from the Horcrux cut off relatively well once the neck of the bag was sealed, but it was still enough to trigger the Dark Detectors at the Great Doors, as well as at the wards. Filius was already shaking out a burn bag for Sherlock to drop his gloves into as he gingerly peeled them off, and once inside he muttered a strong cleansing charm over his hands, leaving a look of relief to cross the younger man's face.

"You'd better grab what you can, as I don't think we have much longer, and we can't go out the way we got in," the half-goblin commanded. "I've sealed the door from the inside, which will buy us some time, but the wards to and inside my office have been breached, so Dumbledore is already looking for us. If he thinks we are out on the grounds I can slip back in, but we need to leave now. This way, please."

Unerringly he lead them to the back wall, through a barely - there aisle between looming bookcases, with the men quickly sending out faint scans ahead of them and picking up easily pocketed trinkets. Once past the stacks, he turned, a wicked look on his face. "Help me tip these, and quickly. The wards to the second floor have resonated to Dumbledore passing, and the noise will reach him if he gets much closer."

The stacks went down like dominoes, creating a cloud of dust and brittle parchment fragments, as well as a small fire towards the front of the room. "Leave it, " came the instruction. "We've had a rash of smoking related fires, so he may assume it's one of the Fifth Formers. Now then." 

He placed his hands on the wall, and softly began chanting. The wall appeared to ripple, before opening to reveal a steep staircase down, with an ornate, sinuous handrail gleaming in the light. Filius politely gestured to them. They went ahead, as the short man closed the wall behind them. 

"That buys us time to work out where we are and how to leave," he explained, bustling after them. "Albus is a master at transfiguration, of course, but he was never any good at charms and has probably forgotten the little I managed to get into his head." 

Sherlock actually looked startled at that one, and Filius chortled in delight. "Young man, had you not realized my age yet? I was 254 on my last name day. Half goblin, remember? I'll be here another 21 years or so, then transfer back to Gringotts. The Ministry knows we age more slowly, but we don't like to reveal to much about ourselves, your Department excluded due to our Treaty," he gestured to Mycroft. "Initially my father was unsure how long I would live, being as his then wife was human, though witch, but like the rest of us, I stopped appearing to age around the 150 mark. Barring Death Eaters or accident, I should chug along for a few more centuries yet. Be nice to do something else."

Sherlock raised both eyebrows at that, impressed, though Mycroft was clearly unsurprised. "Where does this come out?" the elder brother asked, as they cautiously hurried down the stairs.

"No idea, although I have my suspicions," came the reply. "That room appears to be part of the Castle's defence measures, and takes on different characteristics at need, whether it's finding something lost, hiding something illicit, or a refuge and escape. I imagine it was very handy during the Burning Times, ensuring that it was impossible to lay effective siege to the school. Wherever it comes out, there will be exit points both within the grounds and past the wards, which is crucial for you and handy for me. An escape tunnel boys!"

They went down the height, they estimated, of six floors before reaching the bottom, and stared in astonishment at the ornate door in front of them, the portrait waking from sleep.  
As it noticed the three of them it glared in some annoyance. "What in Merlin's name is a bloody goblin doing in my school?" it demanded

Mycroft stepped urbanely forwards. 

"Lord Slytherin, I presume? Mycroft Holmes, Her Majesty's Government, formerly of Slytherin House. I am delighted to meet you."


	36. Tension

"... Once he realised Mycroft was one of his House, his attitude changed, and he allowed us entrance to the Chamber of Secrets," Severus read aloud to his husbands, Narcissa and Nick. "The Chamber is vast, Severus; it is amazing that it has gone so long, seen by none but one boy, not more than thirty years ago. Slytherin is understandably imprecise with years, given the amount of time he has been confined to the two portraits. The time-frame corresponds to the last known opening of the chamber, but Slytherin describes the boy as a 'fair faced Squire, of middling height for his station in height', which does rather clear Hagrid. As a certain T.R. was the one to implicate Hagrid, it would seem we have the UK's first known Parselmouth for fifty years, as Slytherin can attest to hearing him converse with Grella."

"Grella? There was someone down there with him?" Remus asked, but Narcissa shook her head. "No-one for at least 500 years; the name slipped from use and is considered unlucky."

"Before you ask," and Severus paused for a beat for Sirius to chime "Too Late" as Remus chuckled, "Grella was a 60m long basilisk, lying in a spelled sleep, who Slytherin was partway through familiar bonding with at the time the painting activated. The nascent bond breaking would have placed the creature into suspended animation until such a time as she could bond with a like mind. Slytherin theorises that as the Castle is semi-sentient-" four voices exclaimed in shock, interrupting Severus, himself in complete astonishment "-semi-sentient, and as his magic comprises one fourth of the wards and magic therein, he theorises that the Castle herself took over the bond. Not needing a basilisk, who was charged with defending the castle from 'Mundane Force', the castle merely continued it's ongoing sleep. However, given that TR can clearly rouse the creature to kill, Sytherin communed with the castle in some way, and gave their permission to kill the creature. Flitwick transfigured a bone, from one of the piles littering the edges, into a cockerel, and the basilisk was dead on the first crow. Please find it enclosed; you know what to do.' Nimue's tears, this is going to be 60m long! "All Mycroft asks is that you share your findings and any potions useful to our allies. To that end, Slytherin also directed us to his private study, where we stacked his personal chests with all the books and curios we could find, including a second portrait, which Mycroft has set up in the study of the house you liked so much. Four smaller portraits have been commissioned, and while Mycroft and Flitwick will each retain a miniature, Slytherin himself requested that he be involved in the war effort, as he suspects the other Founders have been compelled to remain in their primary portraits for some decades either as advisors to Dumbledore, or, more likely silenced. To that end, you will receive, once I've catalogued what I can, your portion of the library and both remaining portrait copies, one to be given to your DDO."

"Merlin and Nimue!" breathed Narcissa, awestruck. "A portrait of Slytherin? Here? The things we'll learn!" She broke into a truly evil smirk. "It almost makes me wish I still had my old contacts. Well, no, but oh! To be able to drop that into conversation!"

Severus had stilled, completely shocked. "The lost potion knowledge alone -my gods, the man was the foremost potioneer of his time. To be able to work with him!"

Remus looked at Nick. "They'll be like this for some time, I'm afraid. It's as if you were suddenly able to talk to Alexander the Great about battle tactics. This will be immensely useful to SHIELD, as well as to the war in England - Slytherin was the consummate spy, able to infiltrate the more influential Muggle courts of his time as well as manipulate the Ministry, and in portrait form before his portraits were constrained or destroyed, he advised each of the Privy Councils until the mid 1920's when he disappeared from sight. There are virtually no laws until that time that do not bear his influence. Do not think of him as an 11th century mind; he has centuries of history, and the portrait copies will not only allow him to move between each, but will access the memories he has at the time of the new spellworking."

Nick nodded in understanding. "I'll make sure DDO Carter knows the significance of the gift. I take it that it is a personal gift, not Ministry to Ministry?"

"I would imagine so. There are various magics determining usage on official gifts of this nature, and I think Mycroft would rather avoid them if Slytherin can be fully accommodated. He has a great deal of respect for your DDO personally, and although you never know with the Unspeakables I suspect they are at least equivalent in rank; by that level of operation I think you would have to have a clear understanding in place with your intercontinental Other." Sirius, like the other magicals, was fairly thrumming with excitement, partly his own, partly Severus' through the bond. 

"Severus, let us know if there's much more in the letter after we eat." Remus instructed, trying to break through his mate's reverie, knowing that it was futile. "We might as well start planning out the Pack structure to factor in the SHIELD betas joining officially, as well as the needed face-to-face meetings. Nick, your relationship with Narcissa does not affect in any way the role I propose for you, but I think it clear that we consider you Pack at this point, and I would like to offer you a place formally. I don't know if you have to confer with Peggy; that's between you, but should you be willing to accept we would clearly need you to be the direct intermediary between the Pack and SHIELD, which just codifies your role in any case."

Nick looked calm, but Remus could scent his excitement at the idea. "DDO Carter and I have discussed it as a possibility, and as you are allied to SHIELD through various oaths and treaties, my joining is covered under various clauses, in much the same way as our proposed Betas. The fact that you have human pack mates makes you more stable than otherwise, and naturally SHIELD wants to be a part of that structure. Bob and Marie walked us through the oaths when the idea of a SHIELD aligned Pack was floated, and some of them even fall under religious freedoms, so the lawyers have signed off on it all. I'm in, on a strictly non-were basis, of course."

"Good," and Reumus grasped his hand warmly." "Severus is my second, and while Sirius is my Emissary to other packs and to the Magical Commonwealth, I had in mind that you would take the role of SHIELD and Mundane Emissary. You and Sirius are also essentially my generals in battle planning and execution, and will oversee patrols and training together."

"When do you want to start meeting with potential Betas?" Nick asked. 

"Really, as soon as Draco is back up to full strength. I don't want to overload him with nervous were's projecting anxiety so soon after their bonding. I also am going to ask Jean over to do a little intention checking before they even get to the house, given the current situation in Europe. You need to let the applicants know that will happen, by the way; I am not starting off what should be a transparent free choice on each side with hiding my process. While Jean has agreed to do this for now, to protect the boys, eventually this will be Draco's role; I will not accept people just on SHIELD's screening."

"If one of our Were's doesn't pass your screening, then our screening has failed. Our government has some restrictions with vetting procedures, such as not performing Occlumency and Telepathy, but as a private organization you have more freedoms. There's a young were I've been mentoring particularly, Bob calls him a Beta Plus. Could ascend to something called True, or spontaneous Alpha status, should there be the call, but is content as a Beta. Very focused, has the potential to be a superb handler later on, given by the way he unifies and directs his cohort, but works very well as directed. He's one of Peggy's finds, but we mesh well together. I'd appreciate you meeting him as soon as you can, because if he's suitable to your Pack I'd recommend you bringing him with you on the Packs Tour next month."

"You'll be Acting Second for that," Sirius sighed. "My mates won't allow me to travel, and while Severus should go as Second, the potions I need have short shelf lives, so he can't go more than 48 hours away from the lab. Apparating straight into Packlands is rude, so he can't just arrive at meetings and leave."

"You will cover Emissary duties as well as Sirius, that's one reason for splitting the role in any case. If your protégé clicks with us, he will round out the group nicely as well as letting them know we take our recruitment of the surplus betas seriously. If he is a latent True Alpha, he can take on a sub-Pack if that time comes, which will help our stability, but I won't accept a potential contender for my place at the head of the Pack, so have him be very certain of what he wants." Remus checked his watch. "Right. Let's go hear the rest of the letter. Severus and Narcissa should be calm enough to process it, and I want to hear how they got out of the Chamber of Secrets without Dumbledore stopping them."

\------ 

The wizard in question pacing around his own study was also wondering how the Holmes boys had left the grounds without tripping any wards. Flitwick had just shrugged, saying sometimes the gates just opened for him without his spelling them, which, admittedly, he'd witnessed himself on more than one occasion. It was frustrating, considering the Castle was not as responsive to him as Headmaster as it was to the half-goblin, but there was something off about the timing of the visit, and as for them ignoring his request for them to come to him once their academic conversation ended,well, that was just typical of the blasted elder brother's bland rudeness. He couldn't prove they had been in the Come and Go room, where he was positive a smoke bomb had been set off, but the bloody place was still full of antique chamber pots when he'd checked. Even the Holmes' weren't that strange.

He rubbed his hand over his eyes. It might be time to pop in on Algie, get some stress relief, get the latest gossip, anything to get out of the Castle and achieve something practical. 

\-------  
The portrait artist was, of course, an Unspeakable under deep cover. Like hairdressers, people tended to talk while having their likeness taken, but unlike hairdressers, artists tended to deal with the select group of people who could both afford a Master Artist's time and skills and had the massive ego to believe the future needed them around to advise it.

Magical portraits captured the personality and intellect of the subject at the time of their painting. While providing the ability to do this was rare, but achievable with practice, Mycroft's favourite artist not only produced excellent work, keeping him constantly employed, he also produced perfect conversation recall thanks to the Departmental pensieve hidden in a crafty secret room in his house. Not that this was necessary in this instance, given the subject was himself a portrait and, reputedly, one of the most best spymasters in history. Mycroft did, however, truly admire the man's artistic vision.

Slytherin himself seemed very pleased with the new portraits. The one for DDO Carter had seen him portrayed in a library, outfitted in a suit much like one her grandfather would have worn, giving him a muggle-suitable appearance and a nicely inconspicuous provenance as a personal inheritance. Severus would receive one next, with Slytherin in a fully - and up-to-date -potions laboratory, fitted with spelled-in ingredients and 600 years of the best potions works, in preserved spell form by the Bodleian Library in Wizarding Oxford. Slytherin was definitely looking forward to that, after having spent decades in a study setting with only one bookcase with no other distraction from the isolation.

The miniatures were only intended as portable communicators to the Master portrait in Safehouse Arthur, and as such were only as detailed as their purpose needed, but between the two larger portraits, their libraries and the capability to return to his interests, Salazar Slytherin was both well provided for over the next few centuries, and appreciative of those who had provided it. Mycroft allowed himself a small shudder at the notion of it having occurred to a sixteen year old Riddle to abscond with the smaller portrait. If he had had Slytherin as an advisor, Mycroft was quite certain the Wizarding world would have fallen before him long before he himself had begun his career.

A knock on the door drew him from his reverie. Bernard came in bearing a sheaf of reports, and Mycroft's eyebrow rose in silent query.

"Unfortunate news, Sir. We have had a number of first responder owls from Kings Cross Station. It would appear that there have been explosions reported on both sides of the Wall."

"Contact my brother, present my compliments and ask him and his partner to join me at the scene. The Aurors are being advised?"

"The younger Shacklebolt was in the office when the reports arrived, Sir, and was dispatched to notify Fudge. Rather an agile mind that one, I feel I should say, Sir."

"Hopefully Fudge will actually remember to secure the scene this time. Usual suspects?"

"Yes, Sir. Both Lestranges confirmed present by survivors; Crouch a tentative."

"Well, they evidently feel they've laid low enough. I'll need a large team of Obliviators joining me on the muggle side of the platform as soon as they can be found. Usual IRA tip off to the muggle newspapers, please: it's Friday so that means the Evening Standard has the duty. Keep me updated, and let Sherrinford know I won't make dinner."

\------------


	37. Intrigue

Extra police officers and Aurors had been drafted into the City after the Kings Cross attack three weeks previously, and while it had demonstrated Lord Voldemort's cause was still alive it had rather focused both forces efforts on apprehending the leaders in particular. The fly posting areas common to both halves of the city were covered in their  
snarling faces, though in muggle print around the major tourist sites and in every taxi. They were shown in news bulletins three times a day, and had already lost one of the older safe houses. 

Over forty Muggles, and nineteen magicals had died in the attack at Kings Cross. While the Muggle men, women and children had, of course, been randomly hit by indiscriminate spell fire, the Magicals had, for the most part, been executed for their roles in the Fall Massacre. Low level pen pushers who had reneged on agreements to open certain doors at certain times; a warehouse manager who had taken his guilty conscience straight to the Aurors after the attack on the Potter house; security guards pressed into Auror emergency service. Juniors all, not high enough in rank to have their own floo, not skilled enough to apparate or simply preferring the conversational opportunity afforded by the train. Men and women who may not even been aware that the breach of honour they had committed had been against Lord Voldemort, but who nevertheless would not have another opportunity to disappoint. 

While public tension had risen sharply for a couple of weeks, the effect on the Muggle population and press had been more dramatic. The cover-up had relied on the underlying fear of the Troubles in Northern Ireland exploding onto the mainland, and though perplexed, the major parties usually responsible for such acts claimed credit, backed up by Police confirmation of the correct code having been used in the Press communique. The faces of the dead, ranging in age from three to eighty, stared out of mawkish editorials and television reports of lost lives and funerals. 

While recruitment had increased amongst those members of the Fifty Six Houses who were pleased to see action being taken against Muggles, finances had taken a hit from the need to keep the cells deep underground. Fenrir alone of the Inner Circle had relatively the same level of freedom as before, if only due to his shifting ability, but he was locked into a bizarre arms race of sorts with a previously unknown Canadian. The stranger was obtaining not only the formal support of the Were Packs in their remote forest and mountain ranges, but also the centaurs of the Forbidden and New Forests, while encouraging other creatures to flee the country. Lucius was having to spend an inordinate amount of time and money through intermediaries to attempt to rush legislation through the Ministry to block Magical Creatures emigrating.

"We're at an impasse at the moment, Bella," Rudolphus surmised. "We can't show ourselves for operations, but it's those successes that are going to drive recruitment and fundraising. Frankly, we need to be stepping up the anti-muggle and mudblood attacks in order to convince the ordinary Witch or Wizard that our goals improve their chances of success, rather than them worrying about our plans for them."

"So we'll kill two birds with one stone, and hit well off Muggles," Bellatrix shrugged. "It's not as if their security can stand up to us, and as long as we avoid nobility, because gods forbid we hit an Ancient House's bastard line, we should meet our operation costs. Get Wormtail to research potential targets, but keep him away from me; he makes my teeth itch."

Rastaban nodded, his quill scratching away on the parchment. "If we can make that a self-funding priority, I'd like to set up a training camp for all members. Lord Elwood has offered us the use of some property in the south of Ireland, and if there's anything the last year of the campaign taught us, it's that there's too great a disparity in the battle experience between our level and the rank and file. Half of the Nameless would never have landed in Azkaban if they'd had more than the rudimentary training Lucius organized. We need to get the cells up to par, and training regularly to keep the skills sharp after that, and we need to keep Lucius out of it; he thinks only the Noble House heirs are worth the effort. We need soldiers, not Field Marshalls, and that's all that bunch of tossers want to be."

Rudolphus rose from the desk on which he had been leaning, and started his habitual, restless prowling around the room. "As much as he and his ilk are distasteful, Fenrir will bring in the magical creatures, which, while they'll in the main be disposable strike fodder, will attract the right sort of Beings, the Dark Elves, the vampires and Veela. No matter the bilge some of the Outer Circle spew, we will need to retain those alliances for the sake of the occasional boost to selected bloodlines, let alone the vaults. We won't get the goblins unless we also have the government, so in the meantime we keep what business relationships we can going, despite our personal feelings. If our Lord wants to punish them for their actions thus far, we can take our revenge then, but only then. Bella, I know you're furious about our vaults, but if we break the Treaty our funds will dry up completely."

She glared at him, but conceded he had a point."I'll get Nott to fund at least the initial phase, but he's balking at his visibility. Once we can get training where it should be, we need to hit the Order next. There are too many Blood-Traitors walking free, and we need to be able to show we can hit a high profile target. More seriously, we need to focus more on finding our Lord!" 

She slammed her hands down on the table in anger. "I want Lucius sidelined: he seems to think he has an opportunity to dictate our progress, as if he was ever anything other than a politics man. So get him passing as much legislation as you can that will benefit our Lord, and keep him out of the loop on everything else. I am going to start sifting through the old networks to see if I can find word of our Lord, so I'm going to be out of country. I do not want to spend valuable time putting out his fires here, so control him, I don't care how, and make sure he remains exactly as useful as we need. Rudy, you're in charge of the Mudblood strategy, and in keeping Wormtail in sight. Rast, you take training and recruitment, and get someone up to speed in terms of an acceptable public face."

She took a deep breath. "We need to be at full strength, in all areas, by the time our Lord is restored to us, but more than that, I want us three to be the ones to give him an army, and if possible a viable political wing. Which is why I've put Barty in charge of political strategy. Lucius' strength has always been his ability to manipulate the Ministry, but he's completely removed from the populace. Barty's seen the electoral manoeuvres and party building at first hand through his father, and I trust him to be able to pull this off better than we can. He's also loyal to our Lord first, while Lucius has always been loyal to Lucius; and while that can make him difficult, we can trust him. I'm going to suggest we are ready to make a unified move in late '85, in time for the next Ministerial elections in '86, whether our Lord is ready to take up his position or no."

"One area I will not make concessions is the need to deal with the Mudblood threat. I want it to be seen as suicidal for a Witch to betray her blood by taking up with a Muggle or Mudblood, or for a Wizard to sully himself even with a Muggle whore. Use it as training in espionage and surveillance if you want, but I want the lost Death Eaters in Records replaced as a priority, and rumours followed up. We need to weed out the polluters as well as their leavings, to discourage our kin from falling so low in the future. It goes without saying that we continue with the last known list of Muggleborns and eradicate that threat."

She looked steadily at her former husband and brother in law. "We can no longer consider a lightning campaign. We need to break the grip that Dumbledore and McKinnon have had on our society; this lessening of our blood and pride. We must assume that it will take years, not months, but until our Lord rejoins us, we must work in his name, gentlemen, to help shape society into his ideal."

\-----------


	38. Late Night Run

A narrow alleyway. Pounding feet on rain slick cobbles, glinting under reflected light. Air wheezing through tortured lungs, as the sound of more footsteps bounces between the looming walls. A weird crackle of voices going past at speed, blue light flashing, briefly turning the air spectral. An arm reaching out from a shallow recess, a sudden pull into a hard chest.

"You...are...a little...fucker, Sherlock", gasped Greg, almost doubling over from his stitch.

"Oh hush, you were enjoying it until one of your boys shone his fleshlight into our corner."

"The word is 'flashlight', Sherlock, as well you bloody know by now, the number of them you've seen shining on your face and my dick. Why do you always pick the worst places to decide on getting your rocks off? I think I'm actually having a legitimate heart attack, here. You've killed me, I'm dying."

"Technically, I pick the worst places to get your rocks off, Greg, as I know well that you did tonight. And that's not a heart attack you're having. A minor panic attack, at worst, and a waste of all that lovely dopamine surge, in my opinion. And anyway, this looks like a good spot. The doorstep is even nice and dry for your knees, look."

"Sherlock Bloody Holmes, if you think I'm sucking you off after nearly getting fucking arrested, you're even crazier than I think you are. Why do you never pull these stunts in the Alleys? Why is it always bloody Muggle London when you decide you can't live another second without my cock in your gob? And why do I never, ever, fucking say no?"

They looked at each other for a second, then burst out laughing at each other.

"Merlin, your face when the light hit it though, Greg. I could see every thought crossing your eyes so prettily."

"Yeah well, I was thinking, oh gods, not again, which is a look you should recognise well by now, love, seeing as I think it about thirty times a day..."

"I think it's one of my favourites", mused Sherlock, tapping at his chin with his elegant pointer finger. "It's the way you know it's going to go tits up, as you call it, and yet, you allow yourself to be talked into it every time. Freud would have a field day. All very obvious, of course, but deeply satisfying, all the same. The sun will come up, the moon will wax and wane, and nothing gets Gregory Hyperion Lestrade harder faster than his lover sinking to his knees in a doorway."

"And Sherlock Fucking Holmes bloody loves knowing it too. It's a good job he was not one of my lads, is all I can say; they weren't so obliviated that they couldn't recognise my ugly mug, contorted as it may have been. We've got to be a bit more careful, Sherl. I like Baker Street; I like Mrs Hudson, and I bloody love Mrs Hudson's scones, and I do not want to lose out on Mrs Hudson's scones or any other baked goods because we've been sexiled to Hogsmeade."

"We are not going to get sexiled anywhere, Greg; Mycroft's got far too much pull to have that happen. A smack on the arse with a rolled up newspaper would be more likely; especially as we're talking about My."

"Do you know, I could have gone my whole life through without that mental image?"

"I know. Aren't you glad you've got me?"

"Is that what I've got, hmmm? I was thinking it was a rolled up newspaper..."

"Mmmm. Down boy..."

There was just something so gloriously hot about open air blowjobs, Greg mused as he got to work. Of course, seeing Sherlock trying to retain his composure was always beautiful, but there was something wonderfully dirty about being on your knees in an alleyway with the warm weight of a hard cock on your tongue.

"Fuck, Greg, your mouth", Sherlock gasped. The sly look Greg shot him through those beautifully sandy lashes went straight to his knees every time, and the humming, Merlin! 

With the level of teasing the two of them had put each other through before Sherlock had swallowed him down in a pretty poorly shadowed doorway, come to think of it, the sight of Greg's diligent attention to detail, plus of course the amazing sensations caused by his talented mouth and hands, the teen couldn't hold out for very long, nor did he particularly want to. Greg may be a few years older, but he'd turned out to have a deliciously high sex drive and stamina, and Sherlock knew from experience they'd both be ready again by the time they tumbled through the doorway.

Coming fiercely down his lover's throat, he wasted no time in pulling him up to lick the taste of himself out of Greg's mouth. Panting, a slightly less put together Sherlock breathed into Greg's ears."The other benefit, of course, is that the young man who cautiously followed us down here is now more or less certain that we were not followed, and there is therefore a much higher chance that he will pass along the information that is positively eating him up alive. No, don't look, he'll come to us in no more than two minutes, which should give you just enough time to lick your fingers clean before you tuck me away."

"God, Sherlock, you are such a bloody exhibitionist."

"When you two 'ave finished, I've gotta report for ya, and I don't wanna hang around while you pull yer jeans up, or down, come to that." 

The too-thin shadow of, as it turned out, a too thin boy, stretched out before popping tidily back behind one of their 'Runners', Tigs. Maybe 16 at most, but looking 13, he was one of the few kids who Sherlock hadn't been able to convince to come in from the cold and go home, claiming he liked his independence. He was one of the sharper ones too; like a couple of others he was an abandoned 'squib' who turned out to have a low level of innate magic, but not enough for a pure blood family. Sherlock suspected him to be one of Abraxas Malfoy's rumoured rape-children, got on some unfortunate muggle woman whom he regarded as less than human, and who would have been thrown out the moment her belly started to swell. 

The kid didn't know his mother's name; there was a younger, muggle, brother who Sherrinford had managed to find a home for, but Tigs had been too old, too damaged by protecting and providing for the boy, for the new family to 'take'. He stopped in from time to time, occasionally accepting clothes and food, but they all knew that if it wasn't for running their network of listeners, he'd be earning his money in a far less pleasant way. He was reliable, he was smart in mind and street knowledge, and he could train others, but by himself he was too pretty to last long in London. The network of Runners protected him as much as he commanded it.

"Blondie's back, talkin' down to Rat Boy and gen'rally acting like King of Turd Hill as per usual. All pleased with his self, and Signing Sal says he said he thinks he's got the vamps on board. Rat Boy left for 'Eathrow about 3 hours ago, Mags says he's gone to Washington and he needs more credit on his phone; that's Mags, not Rat Boy. Crazy Bitch is still awol, but her pet wolf is sniffing round Battersea and not at the dogs home neither, so Petey says he's going to set up his mat near there for a while, so I'll get Mike to take him food regular like."

Greg fished in his back pocket for the hundred quid in fivers that Tigs would spend on centrally-stored food at one or other of their 'digs', then share the remainder out scrupulously between the fourteen main 'runners'. He wouldn't accept more, and if he knew that Sherlock had scoped out and warded each shelter, spelling it 15 degrees warmer than outside in winter and free from vermin and more human intruders, he never said. 

"Alright, here you so. Nice work, tell them, and we'll meet you at location F on Thursday," he said a bit gruffly, while Sherlock pretended not to be running a quick health scan over the boy, before nodding. Greg let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Nice one. Ok, exit plans were sorted out like you wanted yesterday, Signing Sal said she's briefed her three now, so that's all of us. We ain't been made, like Petey ain't been near the bitch or her dog, so it ain't like he'll sniff him or anythin', and Sal was using those binoculars you got her, so she weren't even outside."

"I got two jackets for you from Diagon," said Sherlock, handing them over. "They've got Notice-Me-Not and warming charms on them, so as long as you don't get too close to the targets they shouldn't stand out. Give them to whoever fits, and we'll get more for next week."

Tigs nodded. "Will do. I'll tell 'em they're knocked off police gear and to keep them hush hush. Another thing, Mags said Nina thinks she's found another one of your kids hiding out near Tottenham Court, so if she can bring 'er in, she will. If not she'll amble round Clarence 'Ouse, give the go sign to the nob out back."

The runners had more than one purpose, after all. 

"And wiv that, gents, zip up, remember you're three alleys away from home and you don't haveta fuck in the cold, ta muchly and g'night." 

The shadow elongated again, rounded a corner, and disappeared from sight. 

\------


	39. A Hot Summer's Night

The kids were running, as best as toddlers can, with their pups, while the adults lounged on their picnic rugs. There was a delightfully shaded part of the garden which was perfect for these late summer days, and even Narcissa had grown fond of the casual informality of the arrangement. She was often found down there, either painting her intricate anatomical watercolours of the various useful plants in the garden, or simply reading through one of her favourite transfiguration journals, occasionally trying out the newest spells on fallen apples.

On this evening she was making use of that 'golden hour' before the sun begins to set to capture the stamen of a wild dog rose flower that grew over one of the stable walls, while Severus read aloud from a muggle book he was fond of. Sirius lay on his side, eyes closed but listening to A Tale Of Two Cities in quiet enjoyment, while Remus, in wolf form, supervised the children in their game.

The informality was planned, to some extent, because Remus wanted to emphasize that at the heart of this Pack was family. Some packs were run along pretty military lines, and coming from SHIELD as they were, potential betas might be anticipating that characteristic. The family at the centre, however, wanted to provide a found family first and foremost, knowing that some had lost theirs to hunters or pack conflicts. Some had never had a Pack at all, bitten by rogue weres much like Remus had been. A family would provide stronger bonds and a sense of belonging far more than the militia structure first suggested, and rejected. 

Tonight Nick was bringing his first choice for the family to meet; an orphaned Were, bitten, not born, by the omega who had torn his parents' throats out, bitten, moreover, in defence of his sister, who had escaped unharmed. The omega had been shot seconds later by the Hunter who had been tracking it, arriving tragically too late to protect all the family. The boy had had the sense to pass the blood on him off as being his father's, hiding the bite until he and his sister had been taken into care by the local police. The police officer who eventually took them in had taught him to find his anchor, to accept the wolf part of himself, and eventually found an alpha who was prepared to guide the new wolf but was too old to consider rebuilding his own lost pack. 

It had been enough to give the boy a sense of service and pride, while his younger sister found herself loved and doted on by all three. That spirit of duty and devotion had been noticed and nurtured by the school counsellor, as well as by his foster father, and in the way of such things, Phillip had come to the attention of those whose job it is to spot certain traits. Instead, therefore, of accepting the offer from Stanford, he found himself accepting the offer from SHIELD.

Remus began herding the toddlers, near worn out from their frantic game, and their panting pups, back towards the blankets, as the ward chimes sounded, announcing the arrival of their guests. As they came down the steps, guided by the somewhat ditzy Dobby, Remus could scent the anxiety coming from the younger man, as well has the surprise that was the normal response to seeing a house elf. Fluidly, he shifted back to his human form, mentally thanking Bob again for showing him the trick of retaining clothing, and ambled up the garden to meet them both.

"Good to see you, Nick. You must be Phillip Coulson. I'm very pleased to meet you. Be welcome to my packlands, and come and meet the family," he greeted them, shaking hands with the younger man but enveloping Nick in one of his trademark hugs, which Nick had learned to expect and even enjoy, growing used to the casual tactile relationship the family shared. It clearly surprised Phillip, who stared at his commanding officer, eyes widening, before swiftly schooling his reaction. Remus laughed. "You'll get used to it, if you join us. My husbands and our Pack Mother pretty much grew up together, attending the same boarding school, but events of the last couple of years made us a family, and we hug pretty frequently."

"Except Severus, but we're working on him," called out Sirius. The man in question snorted. "Just because you've converted Cissa to your tree-hugging ways doesn't mean you'll pull me down with you," he retorted. The effect was somewhat undermined by the piggy-back he was giving Harry as he strode up to greet their friend and their potential Packmate. The toddler was squealing with joy at seeing his 'Unca Nick, who was swift to twirl him off his Papa's shoulders and onto his own. His golden puppy, Bo, bounded around the group, yipping softly, then demanding attention from the new person, who was apparently delighted to give it, picking the pup up and scritching him between his ears.

They made their way to the blanket area, where Draco, having submitted to his mother's need to tidy up his hair, now cuddled up to Sirius, crooning to the barely-there bump that had started to show. Narcissa put down her paintbrush and extended her hand to Phil. "I'm Narcissa, the lazy lummox here is my cousin Sirius, Remus' other husband and kidnapper of my son's heart and mind. Please, make yourself comfortable; for the most part we are informal when it's just us." 

She gestured at the rugs for Phil to sit, and offered Nick her cheek to kiss, which he happily did, grabbing her round the waist and bussing her enthusiastically to the sound of her laughter, before he sank to the rug by her side, whistling Sammy over as he did. Remus carefully helped Narcissa move her easel to the side before taking his own spot between Severus and Sirius, Harry happily climbing over to sit in his lap. With a small 'pop' Humphrey appeared to take drink requests, while Pickle quickly set up a supper of burgers and steaming corn on the cob.

The complete informality of the al fresco meal was relaxing, and the banter between the men especially, under Narcissa's gentle appraisal, made for a pleasant evening during which Phil found himself draped over at times by both boys and their dogs. Draco in particular was very tactile with the man in his late teens, stroking his face at one point before clasping him tightly around his neck and laughing. The last remaining tension dissipated at that, and as the evening began to draw in, and the children were taken off to bed by Narcissa and Nick, Remus decided to move the conversation to the reason Nick had brought the young agent along.

"So, now you've met all of us; this is who and how we are when it's just Pack. We're looking to grow our pack, keeping it about family. We aren't asking you to join a squad, or to view this along command lines, although obviously there are roles within our Pack as there are in any family. We want to offer you a place in our family, and we would extend that to your family as well."

Phil - he'd asked them to drop the longer name earlier - blinked in surprise. Now that he hadn't expected, but he quickly went over the benefits in his head. His foster father was approaching retirement and wanted to move near to where Phil now lived, bringing his sister once she had finished high school the same year. His mentor was very elderly, even for a wolf, and had taken Phil's room once he had moved into SHIELD barracks for the first two years of training. Bringing them into a pack would ease his worries about all of them, and his body language spoke clearly of his relief to Remus, who smiled.

"We have more than enough land here to build pack houses within our wards which won't be on top of each other, which is why we chose the place. That doesn't include the forest within the boundary, either. Since we got here we've been able to extend our land enough for wolves to run for miles, and of course, our pack boundaries follow the traditional agreements of holding what we can protect."

"Wizardry comes in pretty handy for that", commented Nick, walking hand in hand with Narcissa, as they returned to the group. "The external wards go out for miles, and track what creatures cross into our packlands. Then there's the Median Wards, which repel based on intent, and then there's the grassland wards, which include the house. You have to be blood-bound to enter those, which is why you had to cut your finger on that sharpened stone at the gate. Any guest-friend who betrays that trust while within the house apparently suffers an immediate Blood-Boil curse."

Phil's eyes widened like saucers at that, causing Sirius to splutter in laughter. "Merlin, your face! Traditional Black family curse, that, though frankly the intent Ward and the fairly thorough vetting and introduction process has ruled pretty much any ill will out before you get in the gates, so don't look so scared!"

"And don't worry, you can still entertain vaguely murderous thoughts about Sirius without getting hot under the collar," Severus' dry tones interjected. "After all, we all do." The irrepressible Sirius briefly stuck his tongue out at his mate, and then turned to Phil.

"I'm Remus' Second, as far as Pack structure goes, though in reality Severus and I both share equal status. Sev is our Emissary to Wizard and Magical Beings, Nick is our Non-magic Humans and Sentient Beings Emissary. As you can see, we are a mixed pack; giving equal importance to human and were, wizard, witch and no-mag, because we all bring all we are in ourselves to the Pack, making us all equally valuable."

Remus picked up from Sirius, smiling fondly at him. "We put the Pack family first, which is why we encourage recruits to bring in those family members they trust. Narcissa is Pack Mother, Healer and Counsellor, and is in training with St Hedwig's to fully qualify, although she has more than enough experience just dealing with Harry's bumps and scrapes. We are also, I should inform you, midway through the screening process with the Ministry here to foster and adopt orphans from the Wizarding conflict brewing in the UK, so there will be a growing number of kids here, both were and not."

Phil nodded. "Nick tells me the oaths you require don't conflict with SHIELD's outside organizations rules, is this why?

"Basically, yes," Remus confirmed. "A family pack is regarded as being your, well, family, and it is understood even for mundanes within SHIELD that agents have a higher duty to family. That said, we are fully allied to both SHIELD and the local academy run by Professor Xavier, with mutual aid and protection treaties lodged with the Council of Packs and the Ministry, as well as with the Department of Defence, though that particular agreement lies within Director Carter's remit and paperwork. You would be breaking no regulations or previous oaths."

Phil nodded. "What would my Pack duties include?"

Remus smiled. "Well, aside from helping maintain the security and safety of the Pack both here and outside the wards: running patrols, reporting potential threats and so on, your training will continue to be in Nick's hands, as he is responsible for training Pack members in defense. Narcissa, Sirius and Severus will train you in various forms of etiquette and blending in seamlessly to any background or social situation, all surviving close contact with Lord Voldemort. Sirius will also be undertaking some combat and surveillance training with you once he's no longer pregnant, and I'll of course be training you as my First Beta. Then there's barbecues, movie nights, apple picking in a few weeks..." He laughed. "You'll be busy, but we're here for you as much as you'd be here for us. The skills we can teach you will be useful in your career, as well as bringing your strength and character to the Pack."

"Two weeks until the full moon, kiddo," Nick noted. "You have plenty of time to think it over, spend time with each of us after work, just get to know us all outside work. Director Carter has assigned you to the protective detail stationed here, which she hand-picked herself, so make sure you learn from them too. Your time logged on duty will count towards training hours, so you needn't worry about your place on the course, though you will be expected to keep up with assigned essays and tasks as if you were on SHIELD campus. You'll also accompany Severus to Professor X's school, meet some of our allies there. If you commit to the pack you'll be assigned here on a month on, month off basis, fitting in with other SHIELD postings of course. If not, no harm no foul, you'll return with no penalty to the normal agent stream."

Remus rose, signalling the end of the evening. "Come on, I'll escort you out to the gate and the car can take you back to HQ. Back in a minute, guys."

There was a flurry of farewells, and the two men began walking back to the house. When he judged the distance to be outside human hearing range, Phil spoke up. "Why me? There are at least eleven more senior weres at HQ, probably more in field offices. I haven't even finished training."

"Well, obviously to start it's because you come recommended not only by Nick, but by Director Carter, both of whom I respect immensely. Your dossier made for interesting reading; you've organized and lead groups, yet recognize authority, which is an important part of a First Beta role; you are incredibly protective of and enthusiastic about your blended family, which again shows character traits I value highly. You have a slightly subversive sense of humour, which I'm afraid will only grow with exposure to Sirius, but which shows you aren't a mindless drone, which I couldn't deal with -I like independent thinkers. Nick let me know about your potential, and I discussed it with your Elder. I won't tolerate a challenger, obviously, which your wolf will have told you already, but if or when we get to a place and size where it becomes a factor I will accept a sub-pack forming on adjacent lands, subject to treaty of course."

Phil didn't quite know how to react to that, and said as much, causing the older were to laugh. "I want to grow our pack, both in terms of natural growth through children, but also in terms of those SHIELD betas that will be a good fit here, and surplus betas from other packs. There is a Pack Council Moot at Harvest Moon, which we will attend, and register our willingness to foster trainees and any with unusual gifts they might wish to train. We will also declare our willingness to interview low ranking, basically surplus, betas with the intent to accept into our Pack, subject to the permission of their current Alpha and mutual aid treaties being signed. After that we will be touring the Packs, as a new Pack, meeting these Alphas and betas and hopefully forming alliances, which will probably take about three months on the road. With this as our base, we'll hopefully become fully established within the Council that packs will approach us in time. At some point, sub packs become a possibility, and I'd rather they were formed as part of our plan for the future than because overcrowding triggers an Alpha response."

They reached the gates, the other side of which the car stood idling. Remus shook his hand, smiling. "We enjoyed meeting you, Phil, and I hope, after consideration, you'll join our pack. Take your time, think about it; spend time with each of us, see if we fit each other. We'll see you around the wards tomorrow; feel free to drop in, the wards will accept you. Have a good rest of the night!"

He stood watching as the car lights moved away, then nodded at the agent on duty before shifting to his lupine form and loping back to his pack, still in the warm bubble of the charm keeping the warmth of the day in, as well as insects out, which Nick gave thanks for every time he was outside. He nosed along Sirius' stomach, echoing Draco's earlier attentions and revelling in the sound of the twin heartbeats, before changing back.

"So, what are your thoughts?" he asked, settling himself in for a late night discussion with a content smile on his face and his arm around Severus while Sirius moved just enough to use him as a pillow. Their conversation went late into the night, but the consensus was clear from the beginning: Phil Coulson would make an ideal Packmate.


	40. Growth

Of the two pregnant beings in the Westchester home, only Pickle was handling her changing shape and hormone levels with anything approaching grace. Only Severus' order that she take frequent rest breaks, meaning that occasionally you saw her sitting down, her needles flying, showed any change to her normal routine. Sirius was beginning to hate her a little.

If it wasn't for the bond he'd have worried that Severus might be hating him, just a little, but all that came down the bond was an exasperated affection, with the odd blast of impatience, this being, after all, Severus. From Remus, now part of the way through his tour, came only reassurance and love each time Sirius was overwhelmed with irritation or emotion.

Severus was definitely getting the rougher end of the stick, Sirius was honest enough to admit. Food cravings, and food aversions, more to the point, were driving Sirius insane. How his body could want marshmallows melted onto nachos and sprinkled with flakes of dried gurdyroot, he just did not know, and honestly? It didn't even taste that great - gurdyroot being an extremely rare acquired taste, but if he didn't have a bowl full by mid afternoon his nausea returned in force. Tinker had quietly set aside an area of marshy ground by the lake, layering it with KwikGrow charms, to grow the stuff organically, as they had learned early on that Sirius could taste the PestBeGone that commercial growers used.

The aversions were harder to deal with. It would have been one thing if Severus had vetoed coffee: they'd have argued for a few days, negotiated a few more, then Sirius would have been 'allowed' one cup a day by an exasperated Narcissa, and all would be well. Sirius had secretly been looking forward to this as the pattern guide for other restrictions he was sure would be coming. However, his nose had other plans. The day after Remus had left, with Nick and Phil as his entourage, Sirius had spent the morning head over a basin every time he'd caught a whiff. Narcissa and Severus had ended up having to retreat to the opposite wing of the house to both brew and drink the stuff, with mandatory breath-freshening charms to eradicate the scent.

The worst was his aversion to the smell of leather. He couldn't take the bike out (not that Sev would tell him where the keys were), nor could he wear the leather jacket Lily, James and Remus had given him for his 17th birthday that he had pretty much lived in ever since. Pickle had put it in the attic when she had found him holding his nose and crying over it, although obviously that was a freak hormone issue.

He was banned from the Potions lab, though in fairness he was always banned from the Potions Lab, because, while his mate had truly forgiven him his behaviour at school (as confirmed in a couple of hysterical crying jags), he had not forgotten one or two epic catastrophes at school. A few. One that involved a new potions lab needing to be built, and that one was not his fault, he just hadn't heard the warning about how volatile Silver Nitrate and IronBelly Dragon Blood were. Pickle wasn't even allowing him in the kitchen during meal preparation any more, no matter how hungry he was. He wasn't allowed to play with Bo and Sammy as Padfoot, he couldn't ride his broom, he had to drink the most disgusting herbal tea known to man and, at five months in, he couldn't get comfy.

And every time he started getting a good head of steam going, Severus would appear, and, well. Make it go away with the touch of his dexterous fingers on his neck and shoulders, but even that was annoying, because a man couldn't even throw a tantrum in his own house anymore. He was sure he'd caught Narcissa almost laughing at him last time. And Jean smirked at him in the staff room at the school. The only helpful person was the school librarian, Giles, a pleasant enough chap who was doing some kind of community service for having run a bit wild. He at least empathized with his restrictions as well as looking up a few case histories of male pregnancy to reassure Sirius that he was, in fact, completely normal and not, in fact, a drama queen at the mercy of a few hormones, whatever Cissa thought.

The most annoying thing was seeing Pickle sailing through it. House elves didn't get morning sickness, as it turned out; didn't have to carry stem ginger around every where they went; weren't at all affected by smells or food cravings, and to really rub salt in the wound, were pregnant for a grand total of four bloody months, meaning she would be all done in 6 weeks while he still had another four months to go. He could feel his irritation, and probably blood pressure, rising at the sheer effrontery of the little short arses, which meant that any second... Ah, there. Mmmmmm, there. Well,at least he had this. Get to a certain level of irritation, get flooded with waves of calm and love from both sides of the bond, which triggered all kinds of happy relaxation feelings, making it completely worth spending twenty minutes getting worked up about absolutely nothing. And as soon as Severus could bed down the potion he was making, he'd be up with his magic fingers... and if he spent that time thinking about one of the other ways the hormones were making him feel, he was quite certain Severus would want to stay upstairs for the rest of the evening, rather than returning to the lab...

\------ 

Side-along apparition was never the easiest thing, particularly when bringing two full sized adults along for the trip, but practice was making it easier for all of them, and at least for this one they had permission to apparate within the Packlands they were visiting. Nick and Phil were in some sort of competition to appear the most unaffected by the jump, and though he valued his hide more than to say it aloud, Remus secretly awarded his points to Phil more often than not. For a man not quite out of his teens, the were was showing exceptional control, and had mastered the fluid shift Remus had only himself learned months before. His wolf was an almost shadow-black, making him a perfect scout at night, while Remus's own coat was a tawny gold, perfect for woodland camouflage in the day. 

They were at the co-ordinates Regulus gave them a little ahead of time, but didn't have long to wait before the man himself arrived, accompanied by a tall man with obvious Native American ancestry and a young woman who could only be his daughter. Knowing the etiquette for this by now, Nick and Phil smoothly moved to stand one step  
behind, but flanking, Remus, who stood, perfectly at ease and radiating calm, waiting for the three to approach.

Regulus - John, Remus reminded himself, stepped forward. "Alpha Hale, Heir Talia, I vouch for the presence on your land of my friend, Alpha Lupin. Here also stands his Emissary, Captain Fury, whom I have broken bread with, and his Beta, who I have not yet met."

Remus spoke. "Alpha Hale, I come with the sanction of the Council of Elders, at the request of my people, and in representation of my own pack. I bring my Human Emissary in place of my mates, who are unable to travel, and my First Beta, for who's conduct I stand surety."

Alpha Hale nodded gravely, though his daughter's eyes sparked with combined amusement and irritation. "Be welcome in the Hale Packlands, Alpha Lupin, and may we remain in peace during our time together." He clapped his hands, formally ending the greeting. "Remus, good to see you again. Talia, Remus is the British Alpha Bob & Marie introduced me to at the Council Pack Moot; Nick here is his acting second. Didn't get to chat with you last time, Phil, but hopefully we can change that. You'll be running with us this weekend, I hope?"

Remus moved forward, smiling. He'd got on well with Alex Hale and his wife Ellen at the moot, and both Nick and Phil had identified potential betas to request approaching from his large pack.

"So this is Beacon Hills, then," he said, warmly shaking the preferred hand before moving in for a hug and scent. "I have to say, the woods feel alive and vibrant here, you're a lucky man." He exchanged the same greetings with Talia while Alex did the same with Nick, then Phil.

"We have a Nemeton, a sacred Oak, which our pack is the guardian of, right in the centre of the Preserve," replied the Hale Alpha, grinning. Remus gave a low whistle. "John had mentioned something along those lines, but I haven't seen one since leaving Europe this spring. Would you be able to show us it? I'd like to pay my respects, if possible."

"Sure," Alex replied. "The land will enjoy meeting new people. Do you want to run past there on the way to the Den, or leave it till Full Moon?"

"Both!" laughed Remus, who could feel the inquisitive pull in his blood towards the tree. John snickered. "Well, seeing as how I can't pull on fur, I'll grab the car and patrol my way up to the Den for the last hour on duty, Alex. I'll meet you guys there."

\----

The evening was going well, Remus thought with relief, although he could have done without the distraction when Sev and Siri started getting amorous during his conversation with the Pack Mother, Ellen Hale. Luckily she had an earthy sense of humour, and laughed at his embarrassed explanation. Her youngest child, Peter, had taken a fancy to Nick, and was demanding he carry him on his shoulders every chance he got. Talia, quite a lot older and full of a calm confidence, stayed with her parents and talked about the possibility of an exchange program between the two packs with the obvious intention of being amongst the first travellers. 

A squeal from Peter caught their attention, and they smiled indulgently at the child riding high on Nick's shoulders.

"Have you thought about where you are going to have him schooled?" Remus asked. Both Hale's looked puzzled, to his surprise. "Well, he started at Beacon Hills Elementary in September," started Ellen "but that doesn't seem like that's what you mean."

"What do you mean, Remus?" said Alex Hale quietly. 

"I think I'll need John here for this one, if you don't mind," and Remus gestured for the deputy to join them. As the other man sat, Remus quickly filled him in. John looked over to the Alpha couple. "Firstly, this seems as good a time as any to tell you that while I am a deputy, my birth name was not John Black, though I'm unable to let you know my former name due to the witness program I'm in. What I can tell you is that I was stationed in this town deliberately on orders from the branch of Government I work for, that I was stationed here in part because of the Nemeton and in part because Remus and I have known each other for many years."

Alpha Hale's stance changed from the relaxed ease he had enjoyed to a certain wariness. "You are saying, in effect, that the government knows about us."

Remus and John shook their heads. "Not in the way you're thinking, no." John hastened to reply. "The Government as you know it is aware, in a general sense, of the existence of Magical Creatures and Beings, but only has interest in you as a tax payer and Mayor of Beacon Hills. They do not know of any individual's creature status, under treaty with the Magical Commonwealth of North America."

"But you do. You said it was because you knew a were well." Jeri looked searchingly at John. "Remus, I expect. I presume there is a good reason for you withholding information?"

John nodded. "Firstly, it is on a need to know basis, and until Remus called me over, there was not yet a need. I'm guessing this is about Peter, Remus?"

Remus looked and scented as being calm, and was projecting that as strongly as he knew how."Firstly, has Peter ever been known to do anything unusual? Bounced when he should have fallen, a toy you could swear had broken being whole, a favourite outfit not been outgrown?"

Ellen looked quizzically at Remus. "Would falling off the roof and running off laughing count?" 

Remus laughed. "Absolutely. Be grateful, I turned my mother and father's hair blue. Basically, magic users are not confined to the shamen, druids and dark witches you may have come into contact with - people who warp and twist items, ingredients and so on to create an effect. Amongst others, there are ordinary witches and wizards, who, in order to use magic, pull upon an internal, genetically derived, core, in much the same way as Weres pull upon their inner wolf. Occasionally the genes from two non-magic users create a child with a magical core, much like Weres can have Were and non-Were children. I can sense Peter is a born Were, but he also possesses a magical core in the same way I, or John does."

Jeri looked thoughtful. "My emissary said he possessed a dark power. They he would grow corrupt as he aged. I would not listen, so he left the pack and Beacon Hills. Now you tell me there is something else about him. He is just a child."

Ellen reached out and took his hand, as Remus shook his head. "He is in no way dark, although he may grow up bitter if his pack sees that as his potential. Druids distrust wizards, because we do not use power that they can feel or learn; wizards distrust Druids because they take power rather than have it as part of them. It is an argument of the ages. It's ridiculous to label a child in such a way, and I'd say you were well shot of that emissary. However, we do have a problem, and that lies with Peter's interaction with the Nemeton."

John took over the explanation. "Beacon Hills is what we call a magic blind spot. Now, that sounds dumb when there's a forty-plus member Pack here, along with the dryads, nymphs and wood elves that are dotted around the Preserve, and two witches I'm keeping an eye on, plus the assorted Hunters and Beings that are just passing through. However, the Sentient beings and magical creatures here all have one thing in common; they can utilize magic by pulling it through them, through the earth, through totems, tools and so on. That magic is pulled through the Nemeton, and the energy flows back into the earth, creating a stable system, like a closed loop. However, witches and wizards with their own magical core are effectively the opposite. Each step they take drains their core through to the earth over time, without a way to restore it through a similar closed loop."

Remus took up the thread. " John has scanned through the entire regular population, and he and Peter are the only beings with magical cores of their own. Safeguarding your magical core from external drain is something you learn, both through schooling and experience, so John is able to close himself off from the Nemeton. Peter can't. The more the Nemeton takes, the more his core has to work to replenish itself. Eventually, if he stays within the influence of the Nemeton, the more unstable his core send his control will become, at which point the brain begins to fracture."

"Dear gods", gasped Jeri, his wife pale by his side.

"You understand, this is not a character or moral flaw. His core as yet, due to his age, and his only occasional use of magic, is not breached by the Nemeton, and we have time, a year or so, to find a solution. You know, of course, about the Council having approved us for fostering packlings, whether orphaned or for specialist training. We've found three other children on the tour who have magical cores, but none of them live near a Nemeton, so the standard magical education offers have been made for them to begin our education systems at 11. I wasn't expecting to find one here, but I suspect your choices are either to foster him away from Beacon Hills with an allied pack; to create a sub-pack in neutral territory until he reaches the age for Salem Institute; or for us to work out a fostering and education arrangement."

"Alpha Lupin, please accept that I bear you no ill will or mistrust, but is there anywhere that I can have Peter examined to verify this core?" the Hale alpha said slowly.

"Ilvermorny, Salem Institute, New Orleans School of Magics, Xavier's School for Gifted Children and La Casa in Mexico City are the schools of note in the Commonwealth," John offered. "All of them offer an assessment exam, and will let you know the best place for him."

"We were talking earlier about having up to five of the Betas who might wish to take oaths to my Pack leave with us next week," Remus began. "If the assessment goes as predicted, and Peter came to us, he would have known faces around him, as well as close ties between our two packs, helping ensure his personal ties to the Hale pack remain. My husbands' both teach at the school, and children are our priority, so there would be companionship with my own children."

Ellen spoke up. "That is an advantage, as far as I am concerned. We are too male dominated a pack with too few carriers; an accident of chance, but one that leaves us dangerously top heavy with little chance of expanding the next generation at present. We said five, you may find more wish to take the chance with your pack in the hopes of them finding mates in a different part of the country. My children, and their eventual children, are at present the only line blood line in the Pack, which has been a concern for some time. It makes them vulnerable to attack. If one child has safe residence apart from our Den, the Pack stands more long term chance of rebuilding should we face confrontation."

Remus gave himself up to quiet thought for a few moments. They hadn't known the Hale Pack considered itself vulnerable, but top-heavy packs had been a rationale the Council of Elders had used when discussing the free movement of surplus betas, and the main reason it had passed into Council law. "Are there any female - dominated Packs with which you are allied? he asked. 

"Well, there's Bob and Marie's old Pack in New York, that ran heavily to daughters the last two generations. There's also Mayelle in Sioux Falls, who's actually proposed a straight merger: her Pack is dwindling due to Hunter activity being on the rise in the territory; they've lost some good families and are mostly down to late teens and elders, maybe nine betas altogether that are female and three men, one the Emissary."

"I suggest you talk it over with your Pack over the next few days." John said, and Remus nodded. "We're allied to SHIELD, and recruiting from betas there; it's also a Were and Magic User aware environment who will also look at recruiting from our Pack. It's potential employment for those who fit, it's also a training facility both in combat and in other skill sets, including education, so you might consider rotating Betas through training there if nothing else, though of course, Nick and Phil are the people to talk with. Could be another way of bringing in new blood."

Alex nodded, rising. "You've given us a lot to think about, and while I'm aware you are on a timetable I'd be grateful if you could stay until we get a feel of Mayelle's needs and plans, and sounded out the betas. John, I know you are on the early shift tomorrow, but I want to send Chad and Aaron down to you tomorrow. They've been mulling over applying to the Station for training, and now we have a Were aware deputy this might be a possibility."

Ellen also rose, her hand out to Remus. 'As named guestfriend, you and your part are welcome to stay here, as we talked about. It won't be going on too late tonight, with work and school tomorrow, so of you come with me, I'll get you all sorted out for your stay. "


	41. Expansion

Another crash sounded from the third floor, quickly followed by the rapid chirping of the youngest house elves and the exasperated scolding of their father. The wailing from the nursery brought the exhausted shuffle of Sirius's feet along the bedroom corridor as he once again prepared to settle the twins back down. 

He stopped in the doorway with a sigh, just enjoying the sight of the two men in front of him, each with one of the newborn twins up on their shoulders. Phil was the first one to hear him, calmly acknowledging his presence, which caused Severus to notice. The Potions Master looked somewhat more rumpled than normal, having no doubt fallen asleep in the recliner next to the crib again, and his eyes widened as he saw Sirius.

"No, no no no, you shouldn't be up yet, you're supposed to be resting," he scolded quietly, trying not to disturb Jamie, whose eyes were fluttering closed. "Where's Remus? Why didn't he stop you getting out of bed?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes at his husband. "Because I'm a grown-ass man with bodily autonomy? Because he values the use of his limbs?" He snorted in disgust, as the corner of Phil's mouth twitched. 

"He's sleeping, isn't he?" Severus demanded. "Yes, as he bloody should be, the idiot, but even so," Sirius replied. "If he's not prowling the perimeter and trying to do all the patrols himself, he's trying to do all the feeds and changes so I don't have to move and you don't ruin a potion. Nick had to pull SHIELD rank on him to get him to stand down from guard duty at 4am, and then the little buggers woke him before 7am with their first disaster of the day." 

He caught sight of Phil's eyes widening. "No, not Johnnie and Jamie; the junior house elves. They've just started training, and it's almost as chaotic as the last couple of weeks before they started training, except now they have access to fire and sharp implements. Do not allow one to make you an omelette; they haven't got the hang of how human tastebuds work yet. How did you get to Johnnie before I did?"

"I was coming in to handover to Nick for the day shift," Phil replied. "Passed the door just as whatever crashed, crashed, saw Severus flailing to get out of the chair, Johnnie kicking off, and I was closest. Didn't get there in time to stop Jamie getting bopped on the nose by an errant fist, though."

"Unless there's an emergency, I don't need to be in the lab for three weeks anyway, love. I did tell Remus, but he's a little, ah..." "crazy", they all sighed at the same time. "You really should be in bed, though, Siri. It's only been three days since the babies were born, and there's -" 

"There's this little thing called magic, don't now if you've heard of it?" drawled Sirius, making grabby hands towards his nearest son. "For a simple carrier c-sec, which it was, in a healthy first time parent, which I am, under a competent Healer, which Nimue forbid you should call Cissa anything but, I should be walking around by day three, which it is. I'll give you I have no intention of attempting the stairs, but if someone apparates me downstairs I can even go and beg Pickle for a tiny cup of real coffee myself, rather than this odious crap you and Cissa have me on still."

"I thought you liked it?" Severus asked. "And no, no coffee while breastfeeding, sorry." He handed Jamie over, and took Johnnie from Phil's arms, allowing the amused beta to continue on his way to Nick's study. 

Sirius scowled. "Yes, well, that was Friday. Since yesterday it's tasted like swamp ass, and I'll even try that decaf shit if it means I get some coffee for the first time in 8 months. Where are the boys?"

Severus gestured at the window with the shoulder not covered by drooling newborn. "They're down there with Jean and the new arrivals from Bob & Marie's pack, two college age girls and a SHIELD candidate in her early twenties. I met them briefly yesterday; one might make a good apprentice, went into raptures about the potions garden and has apparently trained under their local Druid for years making herbal remedies and poultices. Jean's keeping her senses open, but the kids were happy to be near them, so I wouldn't worry. Narcissa's covering me at the school, and your cover is managing Remus' paternity leave for classes, so will you please at least sit down for me?" He pulled Sirius by the elbow, gently, towards the glider Siri was so fond of, and kissed his forehead lovingly once he'd settled.

There was another crash from the hallway, and both men winced. "How long did you say this stage goes on for?" groaned Severus. "About six months, give or take," sighed his mate. "It's why most families regulate their house elves' breeding so strictly, and try to confine it to distant properties. Can you imagine Bellatrix putting up with this for that long? It does make for close generational ties, though, so it is worth putting up with, but if we'd known I was going to get pregnant we might have asked them to wait a year or two..."

A shockingly loud 'POP' of noise, and a young and clearly startled house elf sprawled on the rug in front of them, causing both babies to begin crying and the men to look resignedly at each other. As the young king was hauled off by his mother, firmly clutching one ear, Sirius shook his head, simultaneously lifting his shirt an helping Jamie latch on."Oh joy, we've reached this stage already. How precocious of them."

\--------

The early spring night was crisp and chill, and so far neither of the three week old babies had shown signs of shifting into their fur, which Severus secretly thought showed how sensible they were. Sirius, naturally, was romping around like the deranged overgrown puppy he was in his Padfoot form, chasing and being chased by Sammy and Bo, while Harry, Draco and their new friend Peter squealed with laughter, attracting amused glances and rumbles from their expanding pack. 

As well as the three Betas from the Central Park Pack, Amy, Hannah and Chloë, five men between 17 and 45 years of age had taken Pack Oath to the Lupin Pack, having made the decision, supported by their former Alpha, to leave the top-heavy, male dominated Hale Pack. They had been accompanied by three of the remaining Betas, who were undergoing training courses at SHIELD, and by the Alpha's own son. The fostering accords had been settled fairly swiftly, and SHIELD had provided Alex and Ellen with a selection of interested names to interview regarding the vacant role of Emissary. 

Remus was sitting, his back to the oldest Oak in the Packlands, talking with Bob and Alex, both of whom had come in the stead of the Council of Elders to witness the presentation. Alex had been apparated, in stages, by John, who was holding both his sleeping nephews with a slightly poleaxed expression on his face, much to Severus' enjoyment. Seeing his friend so open, after so much pain, still was a delight.

"The Freedom of Movement agreement is proving useful already in redistributing gender and age compatibilities, not to mention genetic variation, across participating packs," Bob was reporting. Alex nodded. "It was difficult, reducing our numbers like that, but just seeing the guys here tonight has convinced me we're doing the right thing. Dan might never have met Jenna if he'd stayed in Beacon Hills, but that's as true a mate bond as I've seen, and the land here suits him. We've three new betas of our own, and a new pup expected already."

"We've been very lucky," Remus agreed."Cassius is proving an extremely capable researcher into Were lore, and Shelly is a godsend. She's taken over the forestry work, and it will be good to have the woods properly managed, plus it helps strengthen our outer boundaries. Hopefully some of the new men will be interested in training under her; though Nick is trying his best to lure them into the next intake at SHIELD."

"Mike's probably your safest bet there," noted Alex. "Definitely the greenest thumbs, but while he's a capable fighter, he's one of the gentlest souls I've ever known, and as he cant lie worth a damn even to humans, he'd not be much use to SHIELD. Rob's smart enough, but he's more one for working with his hands, and he's more interested in creating things rather than policing work." 

Remus rumbled in agreement. "He's already spoken to me about starting up a workshop in one of the old barns for his carpentry. Showed my some of his pieces; he's got talent. He'll be a good asset to the pack, just for that, but the kids adore him."

"Do you have a feel for which one has the spark yet?" Bob wanted to know.  
While Harry remained Heir to the Potter, Prince and Black Houses, one of the twins would be Heir Lupin, while the other would be the Alpha after Remus, who chuckled. "I thought it was way too early to tell, after what you told me yourself? My money's on Jamie, personally. Of course, now I've said that, it'll be Johnnie that gets the amber irises, but our youngest seems a little too laid back for a young Alpha - although Severus and Sirius insist that's why he will be. It'll be a fun game until their eyes change and we know."

"How is the other little one?" Bob asked quietly, pointing discreetly over to where a young fawn coloured cub curled up to, but not quite touching, the wolf form of Remus' First Beta. Remus sighed. "Our first evacuee? She hasn't spoken yet, or shifted out of cub, for that matter, and I don't see that changing any time soon. Came in with her grandfather; they were the only survivors of their pack, all muggle Weres. He made the oaths, and swore her in as our Ward, and hopefully he'll last long enough for Nick to ram the papers through muggle bureaucracy, but our Pack Mother is with him now to help spell him through his shift, as he isn't strong enough otherwise. He's nearly 90, and while he and Caroline managed to hide their scents, his entire family was slaughtered above their heads. He's broken. It won't be long until we send him to the Summerlands."

Bob hugged him, scenting his distress and sending out soothing signals. "There's a difference between knowing there will be orphaned young 'uns, and seeing it happening, right enough, but she's in the right place for growing up safe, as are your cubs. The moon is due to rise any moment; let's see if we can persuade them to shift for the presentation, and celebrate their safe arrival, ok?" 

As they approached, the tiny yips from the arms of a surprised Severus and John told them that their persuasion in this, at least, would not be needed.


	42. Fear And Loathing In St. Albans

"Dr. Gerry Adams, the political face of the I.R.A. appeared with the Reverend Ian Paisley on the steps of Dublin Cathedral to denounce the attacks that swept through St. Albans schools and daycares this morning in what the police are calling the worst act of terrorism in UK history, and to declare that their respective organizations, despite anonymous claims made this morning, played no part in the planning or implementation of the atrocities. 

The Queen has declared an unprecedented week of mourning throughout the Commonwealth, an act that was repeated by the American and French Presidents as well as other world leaders. Today's terror attacks represented the greatest civilian loss of life on UK soil since the Aberfan disaster, and sources for the security and intelligence community declared that all resources would be directed towards the capture of the terrorists responsible. The public are reminded to report any unattended packages or luggage from a safe distance. If you have any information regarding suspicious behaviour, no matter how small, please make this known to the police. You may remain anonymous if you wish, but rewards for successful prosecutions are already being collected by a number of organizations.

Calls for blood donations have also been made in all surrounding counties. Following this emergency bulletin will be a number of local programs giving further details on how to donate blood or offer volunteer assistance to the St Albans families. The town remains sealed off by police and army units, with only medical personnel being allowed through the barricades. If you are trying to locate family or friends within the town, please call the helpline numbers at the bottom of the screen and do not attempt to enter the town until it is broadcast safe to do ."

The muggle television report was muted with a wave of Bernard's wand as he entered the inner office, closing the door on the small crowd of wizards clamouring for attention in the outer office. 

The fireplace was burning with an external link with the Queen's private secretary, who acknowledged Bernard's entrance with a grave nod. Both he and Mycroft looked exhausted, but all three men knew there would be no time for rest for the foreseeable future. Getting some nutrition into his boss was going to be difficult, but the Pepper-Up potions needed to pull energy from somewhere. 

"Her Majesty is calling a meeting of the Full Privy Council, Mycroft. She cannot afford to keep one of her main Counsellors anonymous under the circumstances: she needs your input, and whoever you need to bring with you to convince the other Counsellors that the threat of magic is real."

Mycroft sighed. "I realise that today's bloodshed requires a unified response, Gregory; I already have most of our Healers in St. Albans along with all available Aurors chasing down all known Nameless and associates. What worries me is the reveal of magic at a time of heightened emotions. We remember the Burning Times vividly, Gregory, while to the mundane population they are already myth and legend, reduced to a handful of incidents when we know that 46% of all known magicals were exterminated. The Queen governs two kingdoms within one, one of which is vastly outnumbered by the other. We have by long treaty hidden ourselves within her protection, and revealing ourselves to eleven muggles who, by that same treaty, cannot be obliviated, endangers her magical subjects."

"Her Majesty is aware of the situational delicacy, Mycroft. The events of today simply are too great for the Council to evaluate and respond to without the knowledge of magic and the role it takes, both in today's atrocity and in protecting and defending our nation. She anticipated your objection, and ordered that you be reminded of the concept of a 'gag order'. She really does find them tremendously useful. However, as the de facto Head of the Intelligence and Security Governance of Her Majesty's Magical Commonwealth, NATO Magical Liaison and recognized as signatory in your own right in treaties with both the Goblin and Centaur High Councils, Queen Elizabeth requests and requires the presence of her highest and most trusted Magical Advisor at the appointed time or she will, and I quote, "drag your sorry backside over here myself kicking him every damn step of the way", Sir."

\------

...The consensus was that Her Majesty's magical subjects are as deserving of her shelter and protection as her muggles, and that the refugee plans need to be stepped up in light of the guerrilla warfare. Surprisingly only one Lord blamed all magic users for the Troubles, and Her Majesty shut him down very quickly by pulling up his ancestral links to Aelric and the number of squibs and full wizards in his family line since then, with specific reference to the five cousins who burned. It would appear that the Queen has long been stacking the deck with her choices, and discovering that Churchill and Elizabeth I were both wizard sired and educated went a long way to swinging the opinion of the Council firmly in our favour. Thank all the gods that she is on our side, Severus; I don't think that we'd survive long if not. As it is, we have refugee shelters being set up in each of the Royal palaces and parks, with goblin portals under joint goblin and Auror guard at each, which will make Sherrinford's task much easier."

"How many muggleborns did we lose, My?" Severus looked as drained as his cousin, the news being relayed to them almost as swiftly as to Mycroft due to Slytherin's portrait keeping them informed. Remus already had teams of Betas constructing four new cabins, each for families seeking refuge. Lone survivors would be accommodated within the main house, the school or the family cabins already dotted around the Packlands, depending on age.

"Seven primary schools and nineteen preschools were hit within a 2 hour period, the preschools first. One hundred and thirty-four children were killed in the first wave, including twenty three squibs and twelve muggle-born magicals. We also lost five squib carers of childbearing years, one of whom was pregnant by her wizard husband, who was thankfully home looking after their other children. The primary school attacks resulted in fewer muggle deaths, but higher magical casualties. Three low-core wizards and one witch died defending their classroom areas, saving potentially 120 children between them, including two muggleborns, but we lost another thirty squibs and eleven full magicals. The numbers were higher than for many other muggle areas due to the Wizarding village of Knurdle being on the outskirts of town. There were also an unusually high number of fatal traffic accidents in and around the town, resulting in at least twelve magicals losing their lives, also within the timeframe of the attacks, which are undoubtedly connected."

"So many" groaned Severus. "Hogwarts will barely be a quarter full by the time Harry's age group gets there. How many are in the refugee centres?"

"We have ten orphans between 2 and 10 years of age, another sixteen children with only one parent remaining, nine of those with a magical patent surviving. The orphans and the muggle-led families will be evacuated first. Three of the orphans have overseas relatives who we hope can take them in; we four others have muggle families who are being offered relocation as a condition of taking in the children concerned, and obliviated if they refuse. Three have no other relatives prepared to acknowledge them due to their having been disclaimed as having House status due to disapproval over a parent marrying a muggle."

"Merlin, what have we come to, My?" breathed Severus, aghast. Mycroft looked like he had aged ten years in a day. "The French Magical government has offered to rehome any witch or wizard who swear an oath that they have never supported Voldemort, and any squib that can demonstrate language ability as long as they can support themselves financially. Canada, Germany, Australia and the U.S.A have offered unrestricted entry to muggleborns, squibs and their families; full Magicals have always had right of residence, as have certain magical creatures, including Weres. Romania and Hungary have offered shelter to Dragons, and to any Dark Sentient Being who repudiates Voldemort, Greyback and Bellatrix by Name. Iceland, Norway and Eire have offered sanctuary to all elves, regardless of affiliation. The people we will have problems convincing are, of course, the pure-breeds, the higher Houses, the Fifty-Six and the Higher Sentient Beings. Despite the carnage, Diagon Alley was as busy as ever, with the general opinion being that it was 'only' squibs and muggleborns who had been targeted. Quite disgusting."

'Remus will brief Peggy tomorrow about our response capability. Are you coming over in the next week?" As unlikely as it was, Severus privately thought. 

"No, she's popping over for a briefing tomorrow at the Department and the Queen has firmly expressed an interest in meeting her, down to clearing her schedule for the afternoon. I'm sending as many of the children over as I can tomorrow, pretty much straight from Ward observation under security, so you'll need to have people ready to receive at your end. Walking wounded at most, those with accompanying muggle family members will come through first."

"We'll be ready, of course we will', Severus assured the worn-out man. The fire guttered out abruptly, Mycroft obviously beyond social niceties at this point in an horrendous day. Severus drew himself to his feet, and made eye contact with Nick, who had hung respectfully back during the conversation. 

"They're in the nursery", Nick reported quietly. "Sirius won't leave the twins, and Draco won't leave Sirius. I'll join you in reporting to Remus, then I'll have to take Phil with me to report to Peggy and draft the Shield response. It's going to be a late night, so we might not get back until tomorrow evening. I'll try to get Phil accompanying the orphan children back here as quickly as we can, though; I think he'll be better utilized here at this stage of his training and can use his mild empath ability to help us get as much information as quickly and sensitively as possible."

"I'll go up to the school and talk with Charles and Jean. It might help to have some of the children here when they come through, make it less threatening to traumatized children." Severus ran one hand through his hair, a habit he'd subconsciously picked up from Sirius. "Come on, they're waiting."


	43. Dark Shadows

1988

No Dark Mark flew at Cedrella Black's passing, it being down to a combination of old age, stubbornness, and the spells on her trusty Comet 16 finally giving way after eighty five years gallant service. It was, said Sirius, the way his aunt would have wanted to go, though perhaps not the way Worthington's Magical Botannical Gardens' would have chosen.

The funeral service was not so far away from the annual ward renewal rituals at the Malfoy-Black-Potter-Prince estates that they couldn't be brought forward, and given the current tense atmosphere the rites were not held on the same day each year to evade their being a target for Bellatrix' band of thugs. Security was, of necessity, tight. As Head of House Black Sirius had no choice, of course, but to be there, along with his own heir; as a daughter of House Black (though not descended from Cedrella's line), Narcissa insisted on paying her respects, much to her husband's oft heard displeasure. Nick Fury sat at her side throughout the lengthy service, falling into easy conversation with 'Mad Eye' Moody at the wake afterwards, both maintaining their vigilance over the attendees as they chatted over the crab puffs.

Cedrella herself would have been delighted at the turnout, which had given the Auror teams assigned many collective headaches, and spawned many not-quite jokes about how half the attendees were undercover agents protecting the other half. Ironically, Harry Potter wasn't in himself the biggest security nightmare - though the Death Eaters had lost none of their hatred for the small boy, time away from the UK, and the daily threat of terrorism from Lucius' Nameless, had diluted the impact of the night the Potters died, and the adoring masses had faded away under the weight of the current Troubles, a term adopted from the Muggles. Narcissa and Sirius were the biggest targets, having been responsible for the loss of the Malfoy and LeStrange war chests, and Severus and Remus were quite as paranoid as Nick about their mate's security. Their other children remained safely at home under the watchful protection of their pack.

Harry and Draco, in their roles of Heir to their respective Houses, had sat quietly beside their parents, unlike Cedrella's own younger grandchildren, who seemed to be composed largely of ginger hair and fidgets through the ceremony. In the comfort of their grandparents home, however, they relaxed more, and the two near-brothers gravitated naturally towards them and the somewhat awkwardly shy Longbottom heir, whose Head of House could be heard berating the Weasley matriarch for giving up her career ambitions. Neville noticeably winced at every reiteration of how house elves could provide all a child needed to get done with growing up until they could be packed off to Hogwarts, until Draco insisted he 'stop hurting my brain with sad feels' and cuddled him until he'd cheered up.

The adults were discussing 'the Troubles' in quiet voices, and once Harry had double checked that neither he or Draco was in any trouble themselves (because adults could be confusing sometimes) they wandered off upstairs to the playroom with Charlie, Neville and the twins, Severus following at a discreet distance. The other small boy, Ron, refused to leave his mother's side, which apparently wasn't unusual. They'd been upstairs for a good hour before the first signs of danger had come. 

Draco suddenly stiffened, keening in distress, which brought Severus running in from the study next door. The boy was practically incoherent, tears streaming down his face as Severus rocked him and the other worried children crowded round. The first crash downstairs was followed almost immediately by a scream. Unwilling to leave the children under any circumstances, Severus summoned Tweedle and had him assist him to get them all out of the besieged mansion. 

"Not that I'm unhappy to see you and the boys, dear man, but what are you doing here, and where did you get all the other tykes?" came the warmly welcoming rumble from Sherrinford, who's study they had all just apparated into.

"Call Mycroft, would you? gasped a shaken Severus, his arms still full of the now-wailing Draco, Harry and the Longbottom heir. "Septimus Weasley's Eyrie is under attack, and Sirius, Remus, Narcissa and most of the damn Twenty-Eight are there. Tweedle, I need you to try and get any other children out of there. Get as many of the Holmes and Prince elves as you can call to help you, and then get Lady Malfoy-Black out of there as fast as you can. Tell Lords Black and Sirius that I'll return as fast as I can, but that the boys are safe." 

The elf disappeared,and Sherrinford straightened up from the Floo where he'd been rapidly updating his older brother. 

"Alright, the troops are mobilising, and these young lads need some cocoa. Severus, you can't go back yet - yes, I heard what you said, but these kids don't know me from a hole in the ground and we don't know if anyone will be ready to take over from you yet. Let your men do what they do best knowing - Ah, more visitors, meaning more cocoa. You're good with the pots and pans, Sev, so I'm making you mess officer till the troops return."

Tweedle was standing next to two more red-heads, one a teenager obviously trying his best to be the grown up for his younger brother; both crying out in relief as they saw the other children. The elf motioned towards the hallway, and was followed by both men. The normally cheerful elf was grave, and Severus felt his heart plummet.

"Report", demanded Sherrinford. Tweedle's back straightened, and he looked Severus straight in the eye.

"The masters was fighting, but they is fine when I left, and had killed many bad wizards. Master Mycroft is there, with many of his witches and wizards, and the bad people is going away now, but there is many dead on the floor. They children is orphans now, I think, because the red hair wizards and witch are dead, and the two children behind them too. Lady Longbottom is hurt bad, and the Longbottom who stays with the Dumbledore might be dead, might not, but he was on the floor and not talk to the Healer at all. Master Mycroft said you has to stay here, and he will send Master Sirius, Master Remus and Master Phil through when he can, but that Master Sherrinford should lock down level two until he arrives. Do you need I to stay? Or can I go and get the Masters?"

Severus wordlessly clasped the tiny, but fierce house elf's hand. Sherrinford nodded, one military mind to another. "Retrieve your Masters at Mycroft's earliest convenience, if you would, and notify him that we are secure here."

The children were anxiously huddled together in the living room, Harry's black mop of curls and Draco's long silvery hair standing out in the crowd of redheads. Draco was rocking in distress in Harry's arms, while Harry anxiously stroked his hair in the grounding technique they had found was the best way to calm him when overloaded by others' emotions. The older boys had a twin on each lap, while the usually reticent Percy held a clearly terrified Neville, whose hands were shaking too much to hold his mug of cocoa. 

A loud and distinctive 'pop' noise from the hallway had Severus hurrying to see who the youngest and clumsiest of the household's elves had brought through. Sprawled on the floor were Remus and an unconscious Narcissa, her hair scorched away on one side and a jagged scar over her cheekbone. The bodice of her gown was drenched in blood, and Remus quickly ripped it down the centre to get to the wound across her ribs. Chanting the strongest counter spell for curse wounds that he knew, Severus quickly began tracing the deep cut with his wand as Remus levitated her to the dining table.

It took a chilling fifteen minutes before the wound was closed and Narcissa's heartbeat, and that of her unborn child, returned to normal. Dittany was already working to heal the wound, once closed, but the scar across her cheek seemed resistant to its effect and would need professional treatment as soon as a healer could be assigned. Undisturbed even by the loud 'pop' of Dobby's apparating her to the bedroom she shared with Nick, Narcissa, though safe, was left to recover in a healing sleep while Severus and Remus exchanged stories.

The younger two Weasley children, and their parents, lay dead in the Eyrie's parlour, the parents' bodies showing how desperately they had fought to protect the children. The curse wound of up-close Killing Curses were burnt into their small faces, but no wild magic had sprung up to protect these children. 

They had been the only deaths other than of the attackers so far, though that was more down to sheer luck than anything else. Algernon Longbottom was the most known adult casualty, having been hit by a curse that burned his core right out of him and left him a drooling husk. Augusta Longbottom had fought bravely, but had gone down to a Severing Curse slashed across her back by a gleeful Bellatrix, and had been rushed to St Mungo's, although it looked doubtful she could survive the blood loss from the horrific wounds. Dumbledore had lain, dazed, on the floor while curses zipped over his head, sheltered behind the body of Longbottom until the attackers had apparated away as more and more Aurors arrived. 

No doubt - no doubt, he was rewriting history for the investigators as Severus listened to Remus' report.

Nick had shot Lucius in the arm, neatly blowing it off in the process, taking the attackers by surprise with the use of the muggle weapon. A Boiling curse fired in probable retaliation had hit him directly in the face, and he, too had fallen, while Narcissa grimly took up a defensive position in front of him and fired curse after curse at her demented sister while Sirius had desperately applied field magic to stabilise the curse. As hope faded, Remus had, for the first time, with Narcissa demanding he keep her husband alive any way he damn well could, bitten to Turn. His first Beta, life signs stabilizing, had been apparated straight to a SHIELD base in the North Sea, while Sirius, seeing Narcissa fall, had yelled to Remus to get her to safety. Unable to take her to the easily infiltrated St Mungos, he had brought her straight to Severus with Dobby's help.

The two men scourged the blood from Narcissa's dreadful wound from themselves, listening to the children being fed and generally bustled round by the elves.

"Sirius was fine, as was Mycroft,' Remus finished. 'He'll be back once he's filed his report to Peggy, and checked in on Nick. Kingsley wants an unofficial debrief from all of us, so Mycroft will bring him in later. We just lost two of the pack; I felt the bonds snap."

Severus nodded, wearily siphoning the blood from his cuffs. It wouldn't do to scare the children more than they already were, and his heart was heavy as he thought of the grim news he had to tell the wounded family waiting in the other room.

"We'll need to put Harry and Draco to bed before we tell the other children; possibly with Neville as they are all the same age. Draco won't be able to deal with the emotional impact from five children's grief, and their bond will probably cause Harry to be overwhelmed as well. If we put Neville to bed at the same time it won't be so noticeable, and then they can see that Narcissa is sleeping and safe."

Remus nodded, exhaustion and grief written over his face. "Do you want me to take them up, or would you rather?"

Severus sighed. "Given that you were the last one to see the others alive, I think I should take up the little ones while you talk to the family. I'm sorry, but I think you will be able to answer the questions I can't."

"You won't have to do it alone, Remy", came their bondmate's voice from behind them. "I took out Nott, so at least the children are avenged - the cowardly shit killed them from behind Bella-Bitch's skirts. Fletcher got Arthur, poor man, but the little turncoat got away with the rest of them. Bellatrix killed Molly, and used the same curse on Narcissa- is she alright? The baby?"

Sirius stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on one of their Betas, Chad. Both men were covered in blood and soot, Sirius clearly having been in the thick of the battle. Chad had fought hard in his wolf form to get to his Alpha's mate from his station in the kitchen, aware that the Emissary was a key target. Two other Betas, Paul and Jason, had fallen in the attempt to reach them, and their grief for their pack mates was etched deep into their faces.

Embracing their mate, the two murmured reassurances in the exhausted Auror's ears, as Tweedle snapped both men out of their blood drenched clothing and into clean clothes. As the elf finished dealing with the gore on their skin and hair, Chad sank thankfully into a chair with a tumbler of brandy passed to him by Sherrinford. Clean, but clearly battered and bruised, Sirius soaked up his mates care and attention for as long as he dared, before he physically shook his body like his canine alter to focus himself on the present.

"Ok", he said. "Let's get this done."


	44. Family

The fire was burning low in the grate, and the three men sat slumped together on the corner sofa in their rooms. Remus and Sirius both held a slumbering twin on their laps, boys who woke with every movement, calling out for their parents in sleepy questions. Even the strongest Dreamless Sleep potion Severus had dared give them had not knocked them out completely, and they were too distressed to be left alone.

Remus was slumped against Severus, who was stroking his long fingers through his wolf's shaggy hair. The other Weasley children were huddled together for comfort on the Triad's bed, only trust in their uncles' keeping them safe allowing them to sleep. Their own children were all asleep in their assigned room, quickly organized by Biddle, with Neville in there too, unaware as yet that his Grandmother had succumbed to her injuries not long after he had fallen asleep, exhausted from the day.

"We are keeping them, aren't we?" murmured Severus, watching the faces of his bondmates' as they unconsciously rocked the small children drowsing against them."

"We have the best claim to them, now" replied Sirius quietly. "Myself and Narcissa are their nearest blood relations, other than the Bitch, and I can't see her gaining custody somehow. As their Head of House, I'd overrule her anyway."

Remus sighed with relief. "I have to say, I'm all for taking them into our family. My wolf already sees them as pack and I have an overwhelming urge to den them for safety. Even the older boys. I know they aren't far off maturity, but they are too young to deal with this and Ministry Care."

"Bill and Charlie will want to stay at Hogwarts, I imagine, unless they want to change schools," Severus mused."But as their housemates are there they might find that easier. Percy's due to start, if I remember correctly, so it will be as easy to get him enrolled as a day pupil at Xavier's as not, and he strikes me as one who will do better if he can come home at the end of the day. These two can homeschool with our boys and Caro until they're old enough."

Sirius shifted position slightly, causing the twin in his lap to shift and murmur. Carefully he shushed the child back to drowsiness before he continued: "Ok, I'll get Mycroft on board to push the adoption through official channels, and offer the blood adoption when they are more settled. To be honest, I'll be glad if Bill and Charlie don't return to Hogwarts. I don't like how Dumbledore did nothing as the attack happened. I don't think I saw him fire off a single spell during the attack, and those children were murdered not four feet away from him without him so much as throwing a shield up. I don't like the idea of the Head of House Weasley being unprotected at his school, or his brother for that matter."

"If Charlie's as obsessed with dragonkind as he's led the boys to believe, he'd be better off changing schools anyway,"Severus mused. "He could attend Salem Institute for their Quidditch program, or we could have him go to Xavier's, and do alternate weeks at the Sanctuary. It's convincing Bill to move in his NEWTS year that will be the issue.

"I'm staying with my brothers," came a sleepy baritone from the bed. "I don't care where I go to school as long as I don't have to leave them."

Sirius looked towards the grey green eyes and bed-ruffled hair of the Head of House Weasley. "Ok, Bill. That's relief to us all, I think. How much did you hear?"

"All of it. I haven't been able to sleep, but I'm kind of stuck between Percy and Charlie -they won't let go."

"And are you ok with it?" asked Remus, gently.

"Yeah. I know I'm supposed to be in charge now, but I know I can't. Dad hasn't ... We didn't talk much about House Weasley; Dad wasn't really that kind of person, you know? It's not like we're well off, or this Ancient and Noble stuff, and I don't know if I'm supposed to do stuff, or what not to do...Dad didn't think it mattered."

"Well, in a way, he's right. It's more important we get you and your brothers home and taken care of, and we all want to do that, ok? The other stuff can wait. It will become more important, I think, but by then I'll have taught you how to deal with it, and you'll have all of us to help. As soon as Gringotts opens we'll have a goblin here to seal House Weasley under the protection of the House of Black and all the rest of us, and that will go a long way to protecting you. You're already under House Potter protection, so that will help us a lot.We'll deal with everything else as you are all ready."

"Ok", came the drowsy murmur from the bed, and in what seemed like seconds the rumbling sound of a big teenage boy snoring drifted across to the watchers. Remus snorted quietly."Ah, the resilience of youth. Well, we'll always be able to tell if he's shimmying down the drainpipe by the absence of the floorboards shaking."

The other two smiled, but Severus still looked pensive. "Is there anything we can do about the Longbottom child, do you think? With one relative dead and one insane, what's going to happen to him?"

Sirius shrugged, frowning. "I know the Blacks aren't connected to the Longbottoms, and neither are the Malfoy or Prince families. So we don't have a prior claim, which would just leave the usual adoption channels. We've just increased the family by five, so we'd be pretty far down the list of potential adoptees. I can't think of a way around it."

Remus was staring thoughtfully into the fire.  
"We can't let that cub go gods knows where", he stated. "I have an idea though; didn't James say in his will that House Potter extended its protection to House Longbottom and offered it any aid? Well, can't we argue that our taking him is necessary to fulfil that pledge to Magic? That as Harry's Regent, Severus needs to take Lord Presumptive Longbottom into his shelter? Worth a go, don't you think?"

Severus grinned; the first smile any of them had been able to muster since breakfast that morning. "I rather think I must rise to the duty demanded of me by Magic herself. Do you think Mycroft would mind a late night elf? To get him all aimed and ready to fire in the morning?"

Remus chuffed a gentle laugh, trying not to disturb the child asleep curled up against his chest. "Oh, Pickle, are you still awake?"   
Immediately the nursery elf was there. "Is the twins alright, master Remus?"

"Well, we might need a little help putting them in with their brothers, but I need you to go and give Mycroft a message from us first..."

 

\-----

Narcissa sat patiently by her lover's bed, recognising the pattern of twitches and breaths that told any nurse of their patient's return to consciousness. One hand rested unconsciously on her bump, a scant two fingers width below the scar that had nearly lost both of them their lives. Thanks to Severus' meticulous spell work the scar had already faded to the fine silvery line she would carry the rest of her life. 

The scar on her cheek, just missing her eye, the same side as the eye Nick was waking to find he had lost, would take longer to fade, but she had lived long enough with the mask of Beauty to know that most people didn't see her, Narcissa, but the mask. Nick had seen beneath the mask almost from the first, and seen her for who she was, not what, as she saw him. Scars didn't matter. She had perfect confidence that he wouldn't give a good goddamn about his or her scars, but revel that they had both survived.

"You're here", came the sleep-fuddled voice of the man she had fallen completely for. 

"I am", she composedly replied. "I'm here, baby is here, and I have a flask of coffee hidden in my bag if you care to sit up for it."

A smile flickered across his scarred face. "Narcissa Malfoy-Black, I've said this once if I've said it a hundred times. Marry me, you wonderful woman. And help me sit up."

Narcissa grasped his arm in her surprisingly strong clasp, helping him settle in an upright position on the bed, before sitting back down in the chair and passing him the flask. 

"Well, Nicholas Fury, I have had time to think about this, given you have actually been quiet for almost eighteen hours now, a length of time only possible through spell work admittedly." 

Nick grinned. "You know me so well, darling. Coffee now?"

She passed him the flask. "I have decided to accept your offer of marriage, on the condition that we both retain our family names - although this little one will, of course, be a little Fury. Also on the condition that you wear a leather eyepatch for the ceremony. I think it will look most dashing."

She couldn't help it. The poor dear had been asking for a couple of years, after all, and had always accepted her 'not yet' with a grace unsuspected in such a dominant personality. The same forceful soul that now sat, dumbfounded, in front of her. The look on his face was really rather adorable, and she waited until he made eye contact before giving him the smirkiest smirk she could muster.

Speechless, he held out his arms. Willingly, she moved into them.

\-----

As dawn broke, Severus and Mycroft flooed into their respective destinations, one to St Mungos, one to his office in the Department. 

It didn't take long at all to persuade the solicitor and Acting Regent of House Longbottom, who had spent a very panicked evening, to sign over Neville, Lord Longbottom and Protectee of House Potter to the care of said House in the Person of the Regent, Lord Prince. The paperwork was very impressive, and signed with a Blood Quill especially furnished by the attending goblin before being triplicated, one copy left with the Longbottom files, one with Lord Prince and one to be filed on the goblin's return to Gringotts.

The adoption clause was in exceedingly small print, but after all he had insisted, in front of the goblin Griphook, that he had read the whole document. 

Griphook, who had produced a quite remarkable Notice-Me-Not shield over the pair of them as they stepped out of the office of St Mungo's Chief Administrator (and family friend of Mycroft's mother) and into the corridor, neatly avoiding Dumbledore's entourage of junior Mininsters and harassed doctors as he swept grandly through in his Grand Mugwump robes.

Griphook, who apparated them both, free of charge, into Director Ragnok's office so he could relish the Pensieve memory while Remus and Neville sat waiting for them.

Griphook, who happily agreed to to look after Lord Prince-Lupin-Longbottom's financial affairs until his coming of age.

Such an obliging person.


	45. Going Home

While Harry and Draco were almost used to the Intercontinental Portkey that SHIELD had implanted in the wrist of each family member, then keyed so they could be linked from a master implant held by each adult, the Weasleys and Neville were not. Draco became very distressed at the 'yucky' feelings the other children were feeling, and it took both the combined efforts of Severus dosing them all with stomach soothers and Harry cooing to Draco while stroking his hair to calm the boy down again.

DDO Carter was waiting for them on arrival with a young fresh faced girl of about 21, who she swiftly introduced as a young were needing a stable pack while she undertook training locally.

"I thought you might be mutually beneficial to each other", she said, smiling as the children gazed around themselves in awe at the grounds they found themselves in. "Claudia's pack was taken out, I'm afraid to say, by their own Alpha, about four years ago. Claudia and her human mother were visiting relatives, and came to our attention for protective custody."

Remus had blanched at the idea of an Alpha destroying their own pack, and was anxiously scenting the air around Claudia for hidden distress, calming only when the girl smiled. "I'm ok, really. I was a bit of a surprise, and we didn't live with the pack. My dad was bitten as a kid and was a really low beta, and they kinda ignored us all? We didn't even know I was a were until after he died and I shifted. So, no trauma, but I haven't been part of a Pack since Dad died and it's starting to be a problem."

Remus waved them to start walking towards the garden, where the younger kids were already exploring.

"We aren't a traditional pack in any sense, but we are stable. How much has DDO Carter told you about us?"

"She said you are all wizards, is that what you mean? I'm not; I'm a squib, and so is Mum. Her brother back in Poland is a wizard and so are his wife and kids, so I know about magic and signed the Magic Protection Pact when I turned 11".

Remus smiled. "Ok, that helps. I'm the Alpha; the dog over there with the two small children on his back is my mate Sirius in his animagus form, who we call Padfoot, this is my other mate Severus."

"Pleased to meet you, Claudia."

"His animagus form is classified, so it's bound to Pack Oath, however you'll see him out with us at full moon. Also out will be our two cubs; Johnnie the Alpha Heir and Jamie, his twin. If Harry and Draco can manage it, they'll be in their own animagus forms, though after the last couple of days they may be too tired. Harry is a black Bearnese Mountain pup, a total fluff ball that looks more like a teddy bear at this age, whereas Draco is, ridiculously, compared to the rest of us, a golden Afghan Hound pup."

"And never was there an animagus form so apt", Severus dryly commented to Remus' laughter.

"I was hoping that Harry at least would be a wolf, but in fairness his other self does fit him. You never know, he might be one of those rare wizards who can manage more than one alternate form, so I won't give up hope yet. We have the lovely goddess, Narcissa, on the arm of her fiancé Nick, who knows twenty seven different ways to kill you with a teaspoon, so approach with caution before he's had coffee, and don't talk smack about the Mets. There are rotating teams of SHIELD agents around the property at all times; at full moon the team are all Weres and my betas, with the exception of internal house guards."

They reached a patio area with comfortable seating, and Remus courteously gestured her to a chair as a house elf popped in and placed a full tea service down. Claudia raised one eyebrow, but otherwise remained calm. Peggy smiled, and moved away to join Nick, Narcissa and the two eldest children on the lower steps leading to the rear lawn, where Padfoot was romping with two puppies and three laughing children

"To get this far I know DDO Carter has vetted you pretty thoroughly, and had you undertake some pretty stringent oaths. To go any further, you will have to swear your allegiance to me as your Alpha in front of Severus, who is, amongst many other things, my emissary. You know what that means, and how such oaths bind. If you have any hidden allegiances they will burn you from the inside. If you lie during the oath, you will burn. If your intention is in any way to cause harm to any pack member, you will burn. We do not fuck around with the safety and security of this Pack, which will include you if you choose to bind yourself to me as my beta."

Under the Alpha's calm but searching gaze, Claudia shivered, but squared her shoulders and returned his gaze.

"As far as has been possible, I have had this pack explained to me. I need a pack. My wolf is stronger than my will, and I need a strong Alpha to teach me control. I need a purpose and I need training. I do not come to this Pack with ill intent; I have covert training as an agent of SHIELD, and I am a linguistic specialist and empath in training at the Xavier Institute. I'm hoping to be accepted into your Pack as I don't feel right without one, and both Professor Xavier and DDO Carter feel that I would be beneficial to your Pack. So, given all that, Alpha Lupin, I respectfully request to bind myself to you and the Lupin Pack, accepting all vows and conditions to enable our commitment to each other."

And with that Claudia Stilinskova bared her throat and waited.

\-------

The bite healed, and the oaths bound, the young Were sat on the grass with her Alpha, his Second, Sirius, and, surprisingly, Narcissa, while in the distance Severus had the children hard at work picking various herbs and roots for potions. The dramatic increase in the size of their family meant a dramatic increase in the number of basic potions needing to be kept on hand,and with five of them grieving, Narcissa explained, she expected gentle calming draughts and tisanes to be an ongoing part of the evening routine for some time to come. It also kept the older ones mentally occupied, as Severus blithely explained that he expected them to be able to identify the correct plants without his help.

Claudia had taken the identity of Harry in her stride; while even the local Wizarding newspapers had covered the 'Boy Who Lived' story, story, she had been going through her own family crisis at the time, and so accepted his back story as interesting, but not as defining the small boy holding the basket while his blond companion imperiously chose the perfect specimen. Narcissa followed her gaze across to the two children and laughed.

"Draco can get dreadfully picky about things, whether they be potion ingredients or flowers for the breakfast table. He likes order and symmetry a little too much, probably as an effect of dealing with everyone else's emotions all the time. Harry is pretty much the only one who can buffer him, other than when he's in puppy form where emotions are simpler. We weren't expecting Draco to develop his animagus form so young, but he and Harry share such a bond, we shouldn't have been surprised."

Remus shrugged. "They are mates. Fortunate that they found each other so young. They will grow up being what the other needs, with complementary strengths. Harry may not have survived without Draco, either before or after his surgery, and without Harry, Draco would not have developed his shields in time once his core was released."

Claudia was a little surprised when Narcissa calmly nodded her acceptance of Remus' words. Not many humans accepted early mate bonds in their children, often causing needless suffering for their offspring by limiting contact, not understanding that sexual responsiveness was not a factor until puberty was well underway. 

Instead, children with recognised mates were closer than any siblings bar identical twins, who, if raised to honour their shared strengths, could form the most powerful bonds known to magic. Mates with core power imbalances, when allowed to grow up together, began to form bonds by which their magical cores could be shared and balanced between them, leading to powerful Mage pairs. 

Rarer gifts, such as Empath and Shield, could exponentially develop in mated pairs past the normal capabilities of an individual wizard, even if working in partnership with another adult wizard or witch. To have begun such a partnership as toddlers gave the probability of those powers being immeasurably strong by adulthood.

Weres tended to make for strong mind arts practitioners, too. In her case, the wolf side to her nature gave her some relief from her empath abilities, although she needed to develop her wolf side to balance out her human nature. A were, bitten or born, had to learn to balance both sides of their nature, and Remus explained that it had taken him until he was 19 to recognise that he wasn't Remus-The-Human or Remus-The-Wolf, but Remus-The-Were. His Alpha nature did not manifest until he had made that deeper connection to his true self, nor had he been able to shift outside the Full Moon.

It was odd, thinking of this calm, self possessed man, who radiated Alpha strength, as only being in his late twenties. He had grown up without Pack other than his human friends, he explained; raised to regard himself as a Dark Creature, cursed by the Bite and forced to drink potions containing Wolfsbane in order to, in the eyes of British Wizardry, contain the monster. It had taken months of interaction with other Weres, often in hiding themselves from the Ministry, and reading banned texts in secret before he had begun to understand his own nature. It had taken meeting an American Alpha and his mate before he had fully embraced it.

Some of his betas were British Weres whom he had smuggled out of Britain with the help of family connections. Working with American Weres had helped them make that mental adjustment faster, and there was now quite the Underground Railroad helping British Weres evade Ministry regulation, rules which were punitive and often forced them to live by illegal means in order to survive. The Lupin Pack took in those wolves, rehabilitated them, and then either encouraged them to move to subsidiary Packs around the country, or kept them, supporting them through their training or further education. There were a few teenage Weres currently studying at the Xavier Institute like her; others on exchange programs with healthy packs, forming links and developing contacts. 

Part of Severus' role in the pack, they explained, was to train emissaries in conjunction with SHIELD and the Xavier Institute. Were Packs traditionally fulfilled the role of policing magical creatures and entities outside of Ministry purview, but with the commonly held Light beliefs that Weres were Dark Creatures, pack dynamics had become skewed in the twentieth century, and as a result there had been a reduction in the amount of healthy packs with a Were/Human balance, even fewer emissaries and increasing numbers of barely functioning wandering omegas.

It was an interesting history of her people that Claudia had never come across. Her Pack had been all about holding and expanding territorial power, and either running off or killing perceived threats to that. The Pack she had joined had a sense of peace running through the bonds, even as she looked at people who were quite clearly warriors and armed to the teeth. Literally. 

\------

The children began wandering back up to the house, the two eldest piggybacking the two youngest up the lawn. The giggles from the youngest children belied the tired, drawn looks on the faces of the eldest two in particular. Remus followed her thoughtful gaze to the teenagers.

"They are going to need all the support we can give them. Being around the younger ones will help, but where we can blanket the younger ones with love and cuddles, Bill and Charlie may well feel themselves too old for puppy piles, while having the clearest knowledge of what has been taken from them."

Narcissa stood up and brushed off her skirts. "Nick confirmed their family's bodies were safely cremated, and the Urns have arrived at base and will be brought here for the rites tomorrow at dusk. I'll take Charlie and Bill out after supper, before it gets dark, and let them choose the resting place, and they can design the memorial gardens with the elves later. The younger boys should be able to participate in that, and I'll have the elder three call the quarters with you, Remus for the rites, while Sev and I call on the Father and Mother."

Remus nodded."Taking an active part in the rites should be helpful for all of them. Claudia, come walk the bounds with me, and we can let the rest of the Pack know the plans for tomorrow while introducing you to the other betas."


	46. Endings and Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter, and one you might not like me very much for. It is necessary, though... And sadly in keeping with the time it was set in... I should also state that I am not a doctor nor do I play one on tv; all info used is from a brief search on the Internet.

Chapter 46 Endings and Beginnings

The Weasley children's faces reflected the grief they felt as they stood between Sirius and Remus, listening to Narcissa singing the funeral elegy while Severus chanted the plainsong accompaniment. In fire and song their fallen parents and siblings were bound to the earth and sky in the oldest Wizarding ritual, now usually only practised by those families who treasured their shared connections with other magical beings and the deepest roots of magic. Surprisingly, the Black family had taught them to their own children before Voldemort's first rise had made such rituals suspect, and Narcissa and Sirius both held to those early teachings. 

Forming a protective circle around the Weasleys and their new guardians were the rest of the pack, Harry in the arms of the First Beta, Nick, while Claudia held Draco, with whom she had clicked instantly. They swayed gently with the pull of the song of the God & Goddess represented in the centre as a circle of light began to whirl around the hand-holding forms in the centre. As the light rose, it expanded to include all of the pack until all were under a shimmering shield of golden light, which suddenly drained into the earth on which they stood at the song's ending. Wordlessly Narcissa and Severus lowered their linked hands and separated, bowing to each other before Sev took her arm and led her back to the children, whom they both then embraced.

The earth was still tingling underneath their feet as they all walked barefoot towards the house. It was easy to tell who was used to magic and who was not, for while everyone was solemn the muggle Weres and SHEILD employees were clearly stunned. Harry, Draco, Neville and Caroline were asleep, having felt the draw on their magical core more acutely due to their age. 

Remus smiled as he pointed them out to Narcissa, whose gaze softened as she looked over. "Our Great Aunt used to say that the children were tired out by the ritual in order to give grieving adults a break and protect young minds against too great a burden", she said, indicating the tired twin he and Sirus each carried. "They too will be asleep by the time we reach the house, leaving us the elder three to support through the evening. It makes me think there was truth in her words."

"I don't really remember her, but then I didn't have to have the lessons you girls had," admitted Sirius. Severus gave him a light touch on his arm. "It isn't really surprising, neither you nor Regulus had the temperament for Calling. After our local Circle chose me as a trainee, not even my father dared get involved. It was the one thing of wizardry he never criticized, probably because even if you couldn't sense Caller Benedict's power, there was no getting away from the fact that he was 6'5" and resembled a short giant more than a tall man."

Narcissa smiled. "Bella was always annoyed she wasn't selected. I think Caroline is going to be drawn, possibly Neville, but Harry and Draco won't, mostly because of their bond. Maiden, Mother , Crone: the Goddess accepts many of us, but the God has his own criteria, hence why there is but one Caller to a circle."

Remus smiled. "I didn't grow up with anything like that. Mum dragged me along to church services all the weekend she could, but it didn't take. Never got the feeling my true self would be welcome, as either wizard or were. Of course, Dumbledore banning the rituals has cut a lot of us off from ever taking part, but the Potter's observed the old ways, just took pains not to make it too obvious. We used to go to some of the celebration days at Jamie's, though. I'm glad none of us have to hide it here, even if it's not part of the day to day."

By the time they had reached the house, night had truly fallen. With part of the pack gone to their own homes on the way and others to their stations, only a few core members stayed to see the family settled for the evening, but those who remained were fast becoming family. 

\----------

The doctor's face when he entered the room was grim, and Greg instinctively tightened his grip on Sherlock's hand. 

"You did well coming in when your, um, partner expressed concern, Greg, but I'm sorry to say that the results from your blood test do show a lower amount of CD4+ T-cells than we like to see. I think it clear, in retrospect, that the long viral infection noted in your records last year, with its flu-like symptoms, was in fact your body attempting to fight off a different viral infection, that of HIV. I'm very sorry."

Greg's face went white, as with a choked noise he turned his face in towards the warmth and support of Sherlocks's arms. Sherlock closed his eyes for a brief moment as if to steady himself, then opened them and looked resolutely at the doctor. "Prognosis?" he clipped out.

"Well, due to your own observations being rather earlier than most, we will be able to start Greg off on a new drug cocktail, which, provided he follows the regimen exactly, should give a good ten years before the next stage of the virus shows signs of having developed. But I do mean exactly, Greg. You have to take these pills at the same times each day, no matter what you might be doing otherwise, for the most therapeutic effect. Set alarm clocks if need be. This includes overnight: the timings are critical. Other than that, standard low-immune system guidelines apply: minimize hand contact with others and wash or gel your hands with detox gel as soon as practicable, avoid individuals who exhibit symptoms of ill health, ensure your vaccines are updated but avoid live vaccines, avoid crowded buses and trains where you may be exposed to airborne virus practicals, and of course, for yours and their protection, no unprotected intercourse. You'll have to notify your partners going back eighteen months to be safe, and we recommend that they in turn come in to be tested either by their GP or local sexual health clinic."

Greg, having composed himself a bit, faced the doctor. "What are the chances I could have passed this onto Sherlock?"

The doctor sighed. "Regrettably, rather high. I'm afraid you need to be tested too, Sherlock. Either I can do that for you, or you can make your own arrangements, either way it should be your highest priority."

Sherlock nodded, gravely. "I will make my own arrangements as soon as I get home. In the meantime, outside of his police duties, Greg has close, though not, of course, intimate, contact with the vulnerable through our work with street children. I'm not thinking of your infecting them, Greg, I'm thinking of them infecting you with other illnesses you may not be able to fight off."

The doctor looked unhappily at Greg. " it is great that you've been helping them so far, Greg, but the probability is skewed towards your immune system collapsing under attack from quite commonly carried viral or bacterial infections amongst street children -streptococcus and staphylococcus infections being just two off the top of my head that could be fatal. I can only advise you, of course, but I would recommend you stop your own direct involvement until we have better treatments for you. I know that's the last thing you want to here, but better financial involvement with supportive charities than no involvement due to your demise. Now, I've got these leaflets I'd like you to read, and I want to keep a closed eye on your numbers until we see how this cocktail works for you, so I'd like you to come back every Wednesday to the clinic for blood work for at least a few months."

Out on the street Sherlock looked both ways to make sure they were unobserved, then held out his wand arm. Not having seen it before, Greg was taken aback to see the bus that suddenly lurched into existence beside them, shrunken head bouncing furiously on its' cord, and stepped on with obvious trepidation.

Sherlock showed no such nerves as he settled in the nearest plump armchair, gesturing imperiously at Greg to be seated. "Two for St. Mungo's, if you would, and a galleon extra if you can make that the next stop", he said to the extremely elderly conductor. He turned towards Greg. "The chairs are weighted so they won't topple, but at the same time, you might want to hold on. The bus can be somewhat abrupt around corners."


	47. Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad news from London, and a new pack mate.

1989

That there was a telephone in the home at all was a testament to how thoroughly the family had embraced the conveniences their new life offered, whereas in the U.K. most magicals had never even heard of the device. Sherlock, of course, could never be described as 'most people', magical or muggle, and had grasped the practicality of having an instant connection to his cousin. And this was a matter that needed working on immediately.

Severus was grave when he re-entered the kitchen after taking the call, looking straight to his concerned bondmates. 

"Greg is in St Mungo's again. It's not looking promising."

Remus stood, opening his arms to his exhausted partner, while Sirius started running through his seemingly limitless swearing vocabulary as Narcissa as seamlessly threw a silencing bubble around the children clustered around the table. 

"I was so sure that the mugwort would amplify the juniper sufficiently. Hank was so clear that the newer tincture could break the RNA bonds in just the right places - we really thought we had it, Rem."

"Has Sherlock made the offer again?" Remus asked, softly. Severus sighed harshly. "Greg has still refused until we can reduce the risk to you from a physical bite, and Hank is having trouble identifying the key protein chain for lycanthropy. Until we can work out how the virus needs your saliva to activate, and synthesize the reaction to create a serum, then any other cold or infection you might have brewing or even dormant, held back in your own system by your lycanthropy, could infect him, and it would be a race between the organisms as to which would kill or cure him. His strain is more than usually virulent, possibly because of his own core. Not enough to lift him above squib, just enough to boost this damn virus. If he had stayed in the muggle system, he'd be dead already. As it is, the amount of replenishes and boosters he is on -St Mungo's didn't even know a muggle could tolerate that much Pepper Up. "

The bell-like chime of the wards allowing family through the wards was accompanied by the fizzing noise that meant they were accompanied, and the boys charged off towards the floo room yelling happily. Narcissa rose gracefully, extending her hands to Phil and offering her arm to Sirius. 'Bill will want us to greet him and his friend, Sirius. Remus, why don't you remain here and give Sev a chance to collect himself, and come through to the living room when you are able."

On Remus' nod, the three left the room to the sounds of children trying to have three conversations or more, simultaneously and at the top of their voices, even the normally sedate Draco's voice could be heard pealing out in giggles, as presumably his tickle monster had returned with his eldest 'brother'. Remus tipped Sev's chin gently up so that he could make eye contact with his love. "It's a setback, no more than that", he reassured. "The two of you have made such strides, you're going to get that inspiration sooner than you can think right now. If nothing else, Ragnok assures us his healers can place him in stasis to give you enough time. I know Greg's not ready to leave Sherlock, but Sher will levitate him down to the caverns himself if he judges it's time, and you trust his judgement. Mycroft will get hold of some more Phoenix ash by some unsavoury yet totally legal way again, and the tears arrived only yesterday. And I will contact the Hales and ask if they have any knowledge about purifying the bite process. There is so much more we can do."

The bustle became noisier as the new arrivals were led down the hallway towards them and the living room. Severus kissed his Alpha, calmer than he had been in days while waiting for the news. "We'd better go through, meet this wunderkind orphan Bill's have dragged back with him and find out what they are doing here mid semester. And if it isn't a good reason, they'll be weeding the potions garden all weekend."

\-------  
'John', a name Sirius privately felt suited his brother far better than his birth name had, was, as usual on his visits, lost in his Claudia's eyes and barely noticing the hubbub around them as the family caught up. Her application with the Hale Pack had already been turned in, now the younger boys were ready to start at Xavier's Academy and her own abilities finely developed, and they were only waiting for the Beltane Fires before they formally bonded. Unsurprisingly, not being particularly attached to his own name, John was taking hers, or at least, they were both taking the masculine, Americanized version. 

Harry and Draco had drifted towards them and the seeming oasis of calm around them, at least compared to the other end of the room, where Bill's college roommate, a boy who didn't look old enough to be at either branch of MIT, was explaining how and why he suddenly found himself in breach of the Magical Secrets Act and why it was the most amazing thing to have ever happened to him. What certainly was amazing was how fast his mind-and his mouth-seemed to work, and how, rather than glaring him into calming down, Severus and Remus were actively caught up in his explanation.

"So obviously, once the wounds healed way too fast, it was obvious that there was some factor involved in this attack that was missing from your usual wild-animals-rip-into-genius-teen scenario, and once you've made the probable identification of their being wolves, and that magic is obviously a thing since your adorably clueless yet storming through insanely arcane texts like a crazed woodbeetle roomie is BLATANTLY magical, then lycanthropy is naturally the logical deduction to make, and so I started researching it."

"...In my insanely arcane texts, which he translated from Latin and Mesopotamian in something like 72 hours because his blood is mostly coffee at this point" interjected Bill, clearly fond of his hyper roommate, who he had described previously like 'a muggle Fred and George, but one person" much to the speculative horror of some of the more thoughtful adults present."

"Yes, but everyone knows Latin or at least should, and once you've identified the key phonemes and pictograms identifying a base language and shared root it's then just a matter of writing a program that can translate from one into the other and from then into English, and while I was doing that I was able to have a sub-routine identifying key phrases to save me from actually having to read the whole damn book for maybe three paragraphs if I'm lucky about were creatures and what to do if you get chomped on by some. And then Bill is, like, totally wolfy without actually howling, which is generally something you notice if you pay attention to what people are doing rather than saying, which is something I completely do because, as I was saying, teen genius, and most people say less important stuff than they think with their mouths and whole heap of interesting stuff with their faces in these, like, micro-expressions, except some people have trained themselves not to let anything show, which lets face it is kinda worrying and I should look into that sometime.".

"So, this is Tony", drawled Bill. "The muggle who made Aunt Peggy promise to watch him with even more interest than usual and then voided his obliviate order herself. Something about there were some brains you left well alone other than hoping you can keep them pointed vaguely in the right direction, and then said he was our problem child now."

"Which, you know, rude. I mean, standing right there. In her office which, my god, so many interesting things to play with. Not that she'd let me near anything. She also said that you were to keep me well away from wands, which, again, rude, seeing as I haven't figured a way to use one yet but also, wands are cool and I need to have at least five to work out the energy conduit, because clearly magic is energy, energy fuels gadgets, I make gadgets ergo I should be able to work out how to adapt...a... You know, the look on your faces is pretty much exactly what Aunt Peggy's was, so I'm going to shut up now."

Sirius raised an amused eyebrow. "Aunt Peggy?"

Tony shrugged. "She and my dad worked on the whole Captain America project, saving the world from the Nazi horde, that kinda thing. Hydra, you know? So she's always been around, got me into MIT when my folks died to keep me busy and away from some friend of Dad's she's not impressed by, got me emancipated, put me on a SHIELD jet and well away from Dad's basement with the make - a - super - soldier kit, which, I'm going to say again, rude, because who else is going to get it going again other than me and maybe this guy out at Harvard, once he stops playing around with Gamma trying to make it act the same as Vita when obviously the two have a completely different resonance..." He trailed off. "Look, I know at least four of you have higher clearances than I do, and mine's pretty high seeing as I grew up knowing all this stuff, so it's not like I'm just randomly spouting out here." His posture becoming defensive, Remus smoothly stepped in before the teen could turn mulish.

"So, am I right in thinking you were turned less than two weeks ago? And in that time you healed, learned a dead language, read through some seriously dry and dusty books and talked Peggy Carter out of obliviation and into relocation into a pack until you have learned control? That's pretty impressive. How come you weren't at Professor X's Institute long before now? I would have thought you'd have been a shoe in."

"I got offered a place there at 7, but it was like a whole different universe as far as my Dad was concerned, and Mom didn't want me going away to school. Then they died, and I'd kinda aged out of their listed courses while MIT was doing interesting things with computers and engineering, so it was a no brainer."

The look of hero worship on the twins faces didn't escape Sirius, nor Remus, who was secretly tickled by his mates rising panic at the prospect of their boys teaming up with the mercurial teen in front of them. He privately was unsurprised that their eldest son had felt drawn to the youth, given the sheer energy and enthusiasm on display to them, and the similarities with his twin brothers that were apparent even in this short time. Chuckling to himself, he stepped forward, arm outstretched. "Remus Lupin, Bill and the boys' adoptive Dad. Harry and Draco over there, Johnnie and Jamie who you'll see tomorrow are also ours, as is Caroline, then the young lords you see there are Peter Hale & Cassius Fury. The two lovebirds are Claudia and John, sunglasses over there is Phil, and with him our Den Mother, Narcissa. Peggy & Nick have basically said that other than your Oath binding you not to reveal our world to other muggles, and your Pack Oath, you have your complete freedom, so while I am offering you a pack place and a home here, it is completely your decision as to where you want to live when not at MIT."

A look of soul-deep yearning flashed across Tony's face before the mask of the arrogant teen slammed back down, but every adult had seen it, and the young man quickly worked that out. His eyes scanned the trio's quickly, then flickered over Phil and Narcissa, who were standing impassively in the doorway; Claudia and John, who were sprawled out on the sofa cuddling with Harry & Draco; and finally coming to rest on his roommate's face. Bill laughed softly. "I did tell you, Tony. You just got adopted into the Lupin Clan Pack. You'll never be alone again, mind, but.."

His voice trailed off as suddenly, stunning everyone, Tony burst into tears.

After a second of stunned inactivity, the twins recovered first and exploded into action, throwing themselves into hugging the teen with enthusiasm. Draco was not far behind, reaching up to touch Tony's hand to draw away just enough of the pain so he could begin to process his emotions. Perhaps surprisingly, it was Severus who stepped into movement first, shooing Fred and George back enough so that he could place a comforting hand on his shoulder, causing Tony to raise his eyes to meet the older man's glittering obsidian ones.

"I have seen your file, Tony, and I have some idea of your home life. Providing he takes the oaths your Mr Jarvis is welcome in your home -we have no intention to separate you from the effective family you have left, more to enfold you both into ours. One of our senior betas has already been sent to speak to him, and if all goes as I expect from reading your dossier, then Nick will be returning with him sometime later this week: at any rate, you will see him before your Spring Break is over. You will have almost free reign to explore the property, save my Potions laboratory which is kept warded. The twins have their own reasonably sized laboratory in one of the outbuildings, which I suspect they will be keen to show you soon. As far as your own experiments go I think it prudent to assign you one of the larger outbuildings near them, but away from the main house, unless you are all content to share in which case we can modify the unused barn for your use."

The twins started near capering with glee as Sirius' warm tones spoke up. "Given your friendship bonds and that you already share a small apartment, I'm putting you in the same suite as Bill and Charlie, though of course you'll have your own room. It is in the Family wing, so experiments there are forbidden after the Roonspoor Incident." Fred, George and, surprisingly, Harry, blushed as the others chuckled. "Should Mr Jarvis choose to join us, he will have the smaller suite opposite your rooms. What we need to do now, though, is talk about what is happening within our world at the moment, and why we are all here."

The ward chimes rang, and Phil detached himself from the group, returning some time later with a visitor, who looked at Tony with undisguised curiosity. Remus stepped forward.

"Charles, how are you. Thank you for coming here; I have someone I'd like you to meet. Tony, this is Professor Charles Xavier, the mind behind the X-Men. Charles, our newest Pack mate here is Tony Stark."


	48. "Have Fun Storming The Castle"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock badly needs a distraction; Minerva badly needs some assistance. They have a mutual window of opportunity.

1987

"I'll be back as soon as I can, love. Will you at least think about it while I'm gone?" 

The hand held between Sherlock's warm ones was translucent, cold and papery; the hand of a much older person than Greg would ever be at this rate. The eyes still blazed fiercely, though at present they were drooping shut as Greg lost his battle to stay awake. 

'Don't get me wrong, love. You are going in stasis regardless, because I'm not losing you to this muggle insanity. I'd just prefer to have your ok, but I'll settle for your forgiveness." 

He held his lover's hand up to his lips, then tucked it under the scarf he had folded over Greg's lap so he would have something of his next to him. Rising, he saw that Mycroft was waiting by the nurses station in order to give the illusion of privacy, though by now neither Sherlock or Greg cared what others saw of their relationship. The mediwizards were holding out very little hope, warning the couple that Greg's time should be counted in weeks rather than months, though privately Sherlock estimated he had days, days he was not prepared to waste while no treatment had been found. No, Ragnok's team was on standby, and before this trip to Hogwarts was undertaken Sherlock and Mycroft would be signing the paperwork allowing the stasis cell offered by the Goblins to be taken indefinitely by his partner, and (the reason for Mycroft's presence) by a muggle.

"I take it he hasn't decided himself, brother", Mycroft stated as Sherlock came towards him, looking more frazzled than any of the family had ever looked as far back as he could remember. The impact was almost no less severe on the rest of the family. Severus had refused to leave the house with his potion laboratory for years now in case of a breakthrough, delaying his pregnancy plans in his fight to cure Greg, and two of Remus' SHIELD-based Betas were touring the allied packs with kits to collect venom, saliva and blood from every Alpha to see if the turning factor could be isolated, treated and purified. The Alpha Vampire, a creature so old he himself could not remember his origins, had personally contacted Severus through Nicolas Flames, himself no youngster, and an old friend of Severus' former Potions tutor. The vampire had seen plagues come and go, and was normally sanguine about the threat they posed to his children, but having lost four well organized nests on the Pacific American coastline, as well as every single nest in Addis Ababa and Darfur, had ordered credentialed vampires to work under SHIELD guidance to eliminate the threat to his children. A phial of his own venom lay warded in Gringotts should an abrupt change be needed to Greg's status, but the man himself had requested that be the very final extreme measure. He had drily stated he had much rather be a living lycanthrope than an undead detective, despite how much he loved the nightlife.

"He fell asleep after only an hour today, which is a new low, so no, I'm not prepared to put up with his stubbornness another day. He wanted to see if this latest serum would be ready, but as Severus isn't here, that says it all. I have the St. Mungos paperwork for transfer all signed here, so it's just a matter of you authorizing the   
Goblins to place a muggle in stasis, which by all the gods, My, you'd better have come prepared to do."

Mycroft gave Sherlock a reproachful look. "Already signed, brother mine, and the transfer team is waiting in the service corridor to keep this as low key as possible. The press are out in force downstairs as that awful Parkinson woman has finally been delivered of a son and heir to go with her insipid brat, and given the lightest push her medical team have decided she can leave in, oh, twenty minutes from now, so that should keep the whole place nicely occupied."

"Which gives you enough time to tell me what asinine diversion you have come up with to distract me from my dying lover being put on ice today actually involves", Sherlock groaned, running his hands through his already untidy hair. Fastidiously, Mycroft twitched away a couple of stray lose ones on Sherlock's collar, before uncharacteristically pulling his younger brother in for a brisk hug.

"You need something to do while Greg is out of action, and I am not about to have you wearing tracks in Mrs Hudson's carpet while your brain goes into its old frenzy. Dumbledore has left Hogwarts for his annual jaunt to Nuremberg and the Adriatic Coast, and while I have Unspeakables ensuring he can do no harm to the locals I need you at Hogwarts to go through the damage he has undoubtedly been causing there. Flitwick and Minerva report that my signature, along with all known Auror and suspected Unspeakables, have been incorporated into his office and personal quarters' wards, as have all staff and children in attendance, even a blanket house-elf ban. Your signature, however, is absent, as far as they have been able to ascertain, probably due to your notable vigil in here for the past 28 months leaving pretty much the entirety of Wizarding Britain to believe you have taken root here, plus of course he is unaware of the existence of your Runners. Which is why you, Tigs and the delightful Signing Sal will be meeting Minerva at the Shrieking Shack and making your way into the office. Flitwick has prepared some extremely strong soporific charms for the portraits, those who are not working with Salazar, that is, and we have a full list of charms to freeze his trinkets which they have kindly prepared."

"Not completely wise to let Sal into a room with obvious valuables, I trust you realise", Sherlock demurred.

"I took pains to describe the potential traps his gadgets are likely to have on them while demonstrating a few to her keen interest. I won't attest to the cutlery in the Great Hall nor for that matter the plate in the Trophy Room; I will place that in your capable hands, but I am reassured that Dumbledore's trinket collection at least will remain in situ. You may wish to ensure that any attuned to the Longbottom boy or Harry are recalibrated, nevertheless. Minerva has expressly conveyed that the Come and Go room is worth another pass-through, although much of what was extant has already been destroyed and replaced with bland facsimiles. Undoubtedly there is some matter she did not wish to commit to even our contacts, so I require you remain adaptable. Sherrinford and Biddle have placed themselves at your entire disposal should you require additional aid. Do have fun storming the castle."

\------------------------------------------

Sherlock's companions were waiting at the apparition point, both wearing nondescript robes and carefully fingering the basic pre-charged wands they had been issued with. Their own low magical cores would be enough to enable the simple spell work to trigger a signal for help, a fairly strong impedimentia and a 'point me' spell that should enable them to find their way through Hogwarts shifting corridors should they become separated. The final spell was a strong Protego Max, large enough to cover both themselves and their companions should Sherlock be rendered unconscious or separated from them, with an alert ward triggering a bell in Mycroft's study should the shield be activated. Likewise, though they would not be able to actively assist in the apparition, their low level cores would at least ensure Sherlock would not be drained from transporting Muggles.

The teenagers had, of course, never seen wands up close before, although Sherlock was privately determined that these two at least should have such preloaded wands as part of their standard equipment. He had met the muggle genius responsible for their creation, and had spent an enjoyable weekend with him and the Weasley Twins brainstorming practical applications of the 'core battery' the teen 'technomancers' had invented. Working with him might even help pass the time while Greg and he were necessarily apart, for while no one calmed his thoughts like Greg did, Tony could at least keep up with an ease only Mycroft had been capable of.

They staggered, of course, on landing; the two high-squibs being unused to the sensation. Tigs brought his fist up sharply in the Runners sign for 'freeze'.

"Lots of footprints around this shack', the young man murmured while flickering his hands rapidly in the language Sal had painstakingly taught the lieutenants in the Runners. She gestured rapidly back. "Right. Don't care what your contact says, ain't none of us using that way in or out. Sal says it smells wrong, like Ratty-boy, so if it's one of his runs there'll be triggers we don't even feel we've set off. You trust us for this stuff, Shirl, so no fuss, there's a love. That 'er?" Sal had signalled the approach of a cloaked figure, and while the pair looked relaxed Sherlock recognized the subtle ways they were geared up to take out an intruder.

Minerva quickly flashed the correct signal, much to the teens' relief, and approached quickly. "Change of plan, Min." Clearly Sherlock was striving for some sense of cheeky normality, but the concerned glance from the observant witch told him he'd lost that round. "My companions here strongly advise another way up to the castle, preferring bright sunlight to rodent infestation." Her lips thinned, showing she understood.

"If you would come this way, Madam, Gentlemen. The way is somewhat longer but I think you'll agree the grounds are at their best in the early summer months." 

It took being behind Hogwarts wards, and far from the gates and commonly trod pathways, before the talk turned from the genial prattle Minerva could throw out so well to the reason for their visit..

"The Book of New Births held in the Ministry has regrettably been tampered with", explained Sherlock. "The Unspeakables need a clear, untarnished and self-updating copy if they are to protect Muggleborns from the Troubles more effectively. While I will tinker with Albus's trinkets if I can, the Book is the main priority." He broke off, his gaze narrowing on Minerva, whose eartips were pink and quivering. "Unless you would like to advise us of a better use of our resources and time?"

Her eartips might be busy signalling Minerva McGonagal Was Up To Shenanigans, but the level voice and clear knowing gaze had deflected many who knew her tells better than Sherlock Holmes. "You'll not be wanting to waste your time in Dumbledore's office then, Mr Holmes," she advised him. "Given that it is the product of some very nifty charmwork from Filius and was transfigured from my bedroom footstool, it probably won't be as useful as the original. However, do convey my apologies for our subterfuge to your brother, as well as informing him that thanks to his slow thinking I now owe Filius a bottle of Johhny Walker Blue Label AND a bottle of Gringotts Special Reserve for which at the least I will be sending him a bill for in due course. The actual books were substituted after St Albans, and not even Dumbledore has noticed the difference, only that of a substantial drop in the Muggleborn birth rate, which he has attributed to The Troubles. The real books are held in the Chamber of Secrets, after Salazar graciously agreed to keep both them and Hogwarts' other precious secrets safe, even from the current headmaster. The access point is available through the Come and Go room, which if you'll follow me?"


	49. Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world has not paused while the Holmes' have been distracted.

It was somewhat disconcerting walking into an empty Hogwarts. Even during the Christmas and Spring holidays there had been the background hum of conversation and the occasional running feet as children played chase in the corridor, but the Entrance Hall was quiet enough to hear a house-elf pass by. The two teens stood openly gawping at the tapestries swaying in non-existent breezes, and at the painted witches at the First All Witch Convocation of 1578 pointing at them and talking excitedly with each other. 

"This way now, please; we have a lot to do and an uncertain amount of time in which to do it. Ah, Hagrid, there you are. Be so kind as to secure the Great Hall and advise the statues not to admit anyone not on the list today now we're in, would you? We'll meet you upstairs before proceeding." 

There was an undignified but quickly suppressed squeak from Tigs as he turned to see the huge man behind them, and Sal's jaw dropped as she quickly flashed comments to her compatriot. 

"Now now, Miss, tha's not polite, using words like that. My parents were married, though as I'll grant you, I am fairly big, though not as tall as me ma, gods rest 'er." The large hands signed something back to her that had both teens giggling as Sherlock huffed in amusement, Minerva raising one perfect eyebrow as she ushered them forwards. "Let that be a lesson not to take even someone as large as Hagrid at first glance. The man is adept at non-verbal languages, being our ambassador to many of our allied Creatures -the place would be over run with Hinkypuffs after the desserts alone if it wasn't for his negotiating skills. When we were between ambassadors there was a while in my youth when it was impossible to serve anything with whipped cream. Dark days indeed, Ms Sal. This way now." 

Bringing up the rear Sherlock suppressed a smile. Whipped cream, indeed. Whiskey, more likely. The party rode up the stone staircase straight up to the seventh floor, a nice perk of the school's being empty; nicely avoiding the normal routes past rooms whose contents might bear watching lest they end up stashed beneath flowing robes. Minerva's soothing prattle smoothed over any awkwardness from the two teens while the route through the school revealed little of interest, and of course would be unrepeatable even if the squibs found their way back unaccompanied. Which was smart, he conceded, as even though he trusted the two implicitly, given certain parameters, Minerva only had his word for their discretion. However, putting them at her disposition for the future could only be beneficial as they certainly would fall far below Dumbledore's notice outside Hogwarts in a way that he could not.

The tapestry of the ballerina trolls had its usual reaction, distracting their visitors from Minerva's pacing up and down until the door to the Come and Go room silently materialized, although clearly they noticed it had not been there before when they turned at his gesture. 

The Room looked quite different from his last visit - the stacks of forgotten belongings and hurriedly stashed treasures nowhere in evidence. Instead they walked onto a field Sherlock was sure he recognized, though it took him embarrassingly long seconds to place it as the view from Severus' kitchen window. In the distance was a group of around 12 children in muggle clothes flying a kite while a few wolf cubs bounded around, all clearly comfortable with each other. A door opened in a nearby barn that mirrored the twins Experiment Base 2, and Flitwick came out to greet them, followed by the Hogwarts Matron, Poppy Pomfrey, whose face as ever lit up when she saw him, one of her 'favourite boys', before she called for the children to come in.

"Come on then, this way", Minerva chided briskly. "Any questions can be answered downstairs. Ah, Hagrid, well timed. Will you please encourage the Thestrals to come inside, please; they have been somewhat skittish today. Come along now." 

Even Sherlock was partly expecting the cool interior of the barn, but on the other side of the door was a ramp winding in a meandering corkscrew many feet below the seven floors they had climbed. The reason for the ramp could be explained by the cubs skittering past them and the hoof steps of the Thestrals behind them. Some of the familiar portraits from the Slytherin and Hufflepuff common rooms accompanied them, making small talk about the War's progress and enquiring after mutual acquaintances. The temperature began to drop as they went past the levels of the potion laboratories, and they began to see their breath in faint clouds as the path descended further, coming to a sudden stop outside an almost empty portrait door. A black snake undulated from the bookcase in the painting, slithering off to the side, before a man with exceedingly well groomed facial hair and what appeared to be a 1950's muggle business suit stepped into frame. 

He smiled in welcome as he saw Sherlock. "Young man, I am delighted you have joined us today. Is Greg safe in stasis? Severus bids me to inform you that they may have had a small breakthrough with the latest blood work - not going any further than that, but 'small progress' from Severus usually warrants headlines from others, so be of good courage. He would like you to come to him, later, which as I warrant you'll be in the vicinity in any event, I made so bold as to give him my assurances. But what am I thinking. Come in, come in. Welcome to the Chamber of Secrets."

The door swung open.

The Chamber was vast, which, as it turned out, was a good thing. Room screen dividers were everywhere, giving from their slightly elevated position the appearance of a refugee camp. Areas were clearly marked off as dormitories and classrooms, with a number of simple playground structures dotted around. The entire left wall seemed to comprise a hospital wing, complete with attendants calmly moving around clearly occupied beds. There was a centrally located facsimile of the Hall, albeit with more tables, and at those a mixture of adults and children were sitting eating or reading. A large pond - very nearly a small lake, was over in the furthest corner, and what looked like huge tree roots had smoothly broken through the walls near the vaulted ceiling, providing nesting places, roosts as well as spaces for elven hammocks. 

"Hard to believe Dumbledore has no idea this is down here, isn't it", murmured Flitwick, echoing Sherlock's thoughts. "The Castle refuses to allow him access to many of the deepest corridors, although it's hard to see if he even has noticed, given the amount of time he spends hidden in his eyrie or strutting around the grounds and Great Hall. We have long avoided the route out we suggested meeting by, purely because Dumbledore's associates use it almost as much as he does, but we did not want to inadvertently reveal another entrance. The Castle has again been most helpful there - we have six entrances now that lead into the Come and Go room from Hogsmeade and the Forest, and three new ones according to Salazar exiting this Chamber beyond the Apparition boundary. The elves reached us first, of course, and encouraged the trees to assist us in providing places for them and the dryads; the vampires were next. Exciting times, as I'm sure you'll agree. They had remembered, as we Wizards had not, the sanctuary treaties built into the very roots of this place. We stand partly under the Lake, dear ones, the Quidditch pitch, amusingly enough, and partly under the Forest itself. Hagrid's cottage is the oldest structure on the land, standing on the exact epicentre and initially a place of aid for all creatures; the castle herself was built on the hill presumably for sightlines and defence. This chamber was added to Hogwarts works, of course, thanks to Salazar's foresight, but the sanctuary pre-dated even the Founders and is, of course, the central reason why a Hogwarts was situated here in the first place. Magic herself declared this a safe space for all her creatures long before Man began working with stone."

"You have been, most understandably, distracted, Sherlock, and while your network has been working increasingly well in your absence, getting many of those sought by the Nameless out of the country, they have understandably been human-centric," Minerva added. "Mycroft has been adroit in whisking those caught up in the troubles out through his other channels, but without a true copy of the Book, we appreciate his job has been more difficult. However, I was a sworn Protector of the Book before Dumbledore began teaching, and I could not in conscience allow the Ministry copy to be accessible to Voldemort's minions. That copy was replaced about three years before Lily and James were murdered, and the one here was replaced when Dumbledore made his power grab. Since then we have only publicly admitted high profile muggleborn candidates with reasonably good security, such as Duncan Finch-Fetchley, and a dwindling amount of those each year, which the Ministry and Dumbledore have been putting down to attrition from the war, either from families dying or fleeing. We have encouraged those families where we can to go under their own power - the Australian, New Zealand and Canadian schools are seeing a gentle increase in numbers of naturalized muggles, not enough as yet to cause official comment of course, due to blind eyes being turned at many levels. Not everyone has been able to do this, of course, and in a few cases family tragedy has intervened. Still, as you can see, we have, with the aid of our allies, been able to rescue many. With only brief absences, however, getting people out is another matter."

"The wards", Sherlock realised aloud. "Hogwarts may have isolated him from areas within the wards, but the wards themselves are attuned to the Headmaster. Other than in times of scheduled trips, I imagine?"

"During overnight absences and vacation periods, the wards are either turned over to myself, Filius, or Poppy. It gives us time, but often not enough opportunity. We have a valuable Canadian ally, who has set up a number of muggle routes out of Scotland, but this last summer has brought more than we can support unobtrusively, and we only have ten days to work with according to the latest roster. We need more Moot sessions to go overnight; we need Dumbledore being awarded medals and doctorates and any vainglorious ceremony Mycroft can devise to distract the old coot, the further away the better."

Filius signalled a small girl with incredibly bushy auburn hair, who nodded and darted off. "Logan will be here in a moment; he was bringing a party of Naiads in from the Lake District after their parents repudiated Bellatrix Nott's latest overtures. Their springs were poisoned; only forethought and practices from his home country to ensure survival in bitter winters saved the children, and some are breathtakingly young. He will be flying them out himself this evening, which means we'll be able to send some of the orphans with them. I want you to go with them - I am sure you'll appreciate the chance to speak with your family, and we have a young one with a most unusual intellect who deserves more than we can offer her down here. She will not speak; a gentle legilimens is needed, and I know none better than Severus, and given her profound attachment to Logan, he will be needed to make introduction. Once you are able to speak to SHIELD in a secure setting, we need more transports and more forests being made available."

"And get Mycroft off his lily white arse and down here by this time tomorrow'" interjected a forthright Poppy. "Heavens knows I love that boy, but did he really imagine the creature and muggle population had dwindled so? Since when has he ever believed in only one source of information? So the Book is a fake, big deal. We expected to fool Bumblecoot with that, not Mycroft Bloody Holmes. Goddess above, he must be worried sick for you and your young man to have missed this much, but if Ragnok has Greg secure in the Kingdom then you three boys have got to get your act together. The Game is afoot!"

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you are enjoying this - please let me know in comments! 
> 
> The story is unbeta'd, and uses British spelling. If you spot any errors, sing out -I do my best! As ever, please comment: I love talking with readers! And if you enjoyed it, feel free to tweet it!


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